#don't watch it and block everything about

[cobaltperun]

hi ! can you please write an angsty fic with a happy ending with gn!reader x tara or cairo your choice where t or c breaks up with r and r becomes a fuckgirl and t or c gets jealous. there could be some sort of conversation along the lines of r saying “how i chose to get over you is none of your business” and t or c responding “don’t” totally okay if you don’t want to or are not comfortable !! <3

(Don't) Let Go

Cairo Sweet x Female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

A/N: I usually keep this for the end, but two things, Anon added a correction, from GN! to Female Reader, so just pointing that out to clear potential confusion. Second, this depicts some unhealthy coping mechanisms, so I just want to say, do not follow R's example. Also, Anon, hope this is what you wanted 😁😁

Word count: 1.8k

She watched you from afar, her eyes narrowed, hand gripping the glass of wine so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter and a frown that told her company not to interact with her unless necessary. You were drunk, dancing with a girl you were flirting with, your hands were on her hips, and her back was pressed against you as the two of you laughed. Tonight’s distraction. It didn’t escape her attention that this girl was a blonde, tall, green eyes, with plenty of make-up, though she could see she was still fairly pretty. Last night you went to the apartment of some red-head the night before that, some other girl with a tattoo who dyed her long wavy hair some ridiculous shade of orange to look like some anime character. The point was, each night you chose a girl that was the exact opposite of her and while Cairo wasn’t jealous, she hated seeing you like this.

Did she have the right to complain though? She broke up with you, she ruined yet another relationship. She ruined everything she touched.

It’s been a few years since she ruined her friendship with Winnie, since she thought she found her love in Miller and was disappointed and in a way betrayed. And she could never trust again, but you somehow broke through her shell, offering company she didn’t even realize she was craving.

It wasn’t like she was following you, or keeping tabs on where you were, or who you were sleeping with, it just so happened that the group she just finished a big college assignment with wanted to celebrate so they made her go with them. And the other two she knew about? Rumors, mainly, though she did catch sight of you with the girl, who lived a block away from Cairo, last night.

What were you doing? You weren’t ruining your life, entirely at the very least, you still managed to keep up with the classes, but you were drunk for most of the day, and if you weren’t drunk, you were hungover. Why did you break up again?

Oh, yeah, because she wasn’t ready to fully commit to the relationship, afraid of getting burnt again, and chose the worst possible option. She just ended it all, over a text, no conversation, no explanation, she just sent the message and blocked you everywhere. She couldn’t ask for forgiveness, though she greatly regretted what she did. She couldn’t watch you take that girl to your apartment, or go to her apartment, though.

So, she said goodbye to the group she came to the bar with and made her way toward you through the crowd of drunk partying people wasting away their free time. “Y/N,” she called out to you over the loud music and she watched as you staggered back, your eyes gaining some clarity as you recognized her.

“Cairo,” you slurred, your hand falling from the blonde’s hips.

“Come with me,” she didn’t wait for you to respond, she didn’t wait for the surprised, and a bit to drunk to understand what was going on, blonde to catch up with what was going on either. She just grabbed your hand and pulled you along. And you let her drag you to the counter and pay for your and hers bill and dragged you outside to look for a cab.

“What are you doing? I was having fun in there,” you leaned against the lamppost, barely standing and not even looking as the bright lights probably made your head hurt.

“By ruining your liver?” Cairo snarked, much more annoyed than she hoped she would be. This wasn’t her business, even if she stopped you tonight what was she supposed to do? Babysit you until you got your shit together? She didn’t have time for that.

A voice in the back of her head told her she was probably the one who pushed you toward this behavior. Her consciousness, perhaps?

“None of your damn business,” you glared at her and she hated seeing that look in your eyes directed at her.

“Right, get in,” she dragged you along as the cab pulled up and she gave the driver her address.

It took her a while, but she managed to get you to her apartment and to the sofa in her living room. She took your shoes off and pretty much pushed you to lie down before she went to get a blanket. When she came back you were already asleep, and she wondered how you managed to actually fuck any of those girls when you were this drunk?

She wasn’t jealous. She just wondered.

She made her decision, she broke up with you.

She still found herself thinking about you every now and then, because truly, you didn’t deserve it. You treated her right, better than anyone before you, that was for sure, you didn’t quite share her interests, but you were more than willing to listen, to grow by experiencing them with her. She could count on you if she wanted a thought-provoking debate, or a passionate night. She could talk for hours with you, or be perfectly comfortable in complete silence.

And she ended it.

And she thought it didn’t matter to her, but as she watched you sleeping there all the times you spent together came back and she… she wanted to fix things, to get a second chance, to make it work this time. And if anyone asked, no, a tear didn’t fall from her eye as you mumbled her name.

~X~

You woke up with a pounding headache, expecting to see a blonde next to you on the bed. Instead you were hit with the smell of spring field, the scent Cairo used when washing her clothes and everything else. You blinked at that and groaned, burying your face in the pillow. The books surrounded you, on the shelf, on the coffee table, everywhere and you only knew one person that had this kind of apartment…

“Damn it,” you cursed, tempted to just walk out and pretend this didn’t happen.

“Damn it, indeed,” and so much for that plan, you turned to the side, toward her bedroom doors and saw her, just as beautiful, enchanting even, as she was the last time you saw her. Before she went and broke up with you over a text and blocked you on everything. And then promptly refused to even acknowledge you existed despite your attempts to at least talk to her to make sure you didn’t hurt her somehow.

“Cairo,” you sighed, sitting up slowly to avoid making the headache even worse.

“Y/N,” she nodded, walking over to the kitchen and bringing you a glass of water and aspirin.

You just watched her, frankly curious and suspicious at the same time. What was her deal? Breaking up with you like that and now acting like this. So, once you downed the aspirin and water, you turned your attention, or as much of it as your headache allowed to Cairo. “What are you doing?”

She sat down in the armchair to your left and you were reminded of all the times you’d spend here, working on some assignment, together, or separately, not really caring as long as you were together. “Babysitting you, sine you clearly can’t help but get drunk and fuck any girl that doesn’t look like me,” she sounded like she had the guts to actually accuse you of doing that, and sure, it was true, and you would be the first to admit it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but…

“How I choose to get over you is none of your business,” you bit out, feeling the anger and frustration from the month that passed since she broke up with you reaching a boiling point.

“Don’t,” she suddenly said.

And you stopped, flabbergasted by her response. “Don’t what?”

“Get over me,” she dared to say, and you laughed, looking away from her in utter disbelief.

‘Don’t get over her’ that was what she said? After all this time that was what she was telling you? That she sort of regretted breaking up with you.

“Are you for real right now? You sent me a text, blocked me and then acted like I didn’t exist!” you raised your voice, angry at her.

“I know,” she nodded, not even looking for an excuse.

You snorted. “You know? No, that’s amazing, you are unbelievable, you know? You really expect me to run into your arms? After everything?” you demanded.

Cairo shook her head, but you saw her biting her lower lip. “Y/N, I made a mistake, I apologize. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that,” the cracks in her unbreakable mask appeared, and she closed her eyes, missing the surprise on your face. “I was afraid of getting hurt again.”

So, she hurt you instead, before you could hurt her. She told you, on one long night, what happened to her, with Miller and her best friend, and as much as she hurt you, you somewhat understood her fear. “Do you have any idea how many times I got slapped or just kicked out because I called a girl your name? No matter how different they looked? You’re all I can fucking see,” you still loved her, because as much as she hurt you the time you spent together was some of the best time of your life, you thought she was the one. “How can I trust you not to do this again?”

Cairo looked at you, surprised, tears filling her eyes though she tried to hold them back. “I can’t blame you if you choose not to trust me again, I probably wouldn’t be able to trust you if our positions were switched,” she confessed.

You reluctantly opened your arm and gestured for her to come closer, and though surprised she did. She sat down next to you and hugged you, her hands wrapping around you tightly as you hugged her back. It still felt right. This. Being in each other’s arms.

“I need a bit of time, I need to take it slow if you want to give this, us, another chance,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t keep destroying yourself over this, and that maybe, much like her actions poisoned your life, they could be the antidote you needed.

Cairo nodded. “As much time as you need, I’ll be right here waiting,” she promised, the conviction in her voice made you believe that maybe, just maybe, reconsidering this relationship wouldn’t be the worst outcome you could imagine.

[starleska]

can we talk about the brilliant execution of Dot and Bubble's big reveal!!!

i am still absolutely gobsmacked by what a well-written episode Dot and Bubble is. startling, disarming, confrontational, and tremendously impactful. and holy shit i really really want to talk about how excellent the 'twist' (which really should've been obvious in retrospect 😭 was done):

as a white person it took me about ten minutes to clock that Lindy's friend group were a nightmare Aryan Tupperware Party collective: all white, all blue-eyed, and even Gothic Paul was dressed in blues and whites, with no black at all. but you know how i responded to that? mentally i went 'oh i'm sure it's nothing!' and shoved it aside. and i think it is exactly that insidious tendency to ignore, normalise, and validate overt and covert racism that the episode does such a tremendous job of tackling! everything in the episode gives us the lore we need to understand Lindy and the people of Finetime are white supremacists. Lindy's disgusted face and immediate blocking of The Doctor versus the amount of time she spends with Ruby. Lindy's shock at the Doctor and Ruby occupying the same room implying segregation on the Homeworld. Lindy calling the Doctor and Ruby 'criminals' not for being in the Bubble, but for breaking segregation. Lindy using Ricky September, a white influencer, to calm herself down not just from the monsters, but from interacting with a Black person. the tradwife aesthetic of the Finetime residents making a comeback in real-life right-wing racist circles. ugh, there's so much and it was all right in our faces!! yet many of us who aren't POC had the privilege of going through the episode baffled and uncomfortable, without being able to put a finger on why until the final bit of the episode. doesn't that tell us how quickly and easily we've all taken to ignoring both micro and macroaggressions? that we needed talk of being 'contaminated', improper use of the word 'voodoo', and Lindy straight up telling the Doctor that face-to-face contact was unacceptable, to understand they're white supremacists? oh my God 😭😭 what a genius play, to make Lindy so detestable from the start. she's an arrogant, vain, self-absorbed, moronic, uncompromising, traitorous bitch...and by layering that abhorrent personality and then giving us the reveal of her white supremacy, there is no argument even the most wishy-washy of people could have re: their awful views. Lindy and her friends are revolting racists who are so wrapped up in their own echo-chamber 'bubble' that they would genuinely rather be devoured alive than challenge their own narrow, bigoted views. i'm still blown away by the power of Ncuti's final scene. the disbelief, the frustration, the sadness and the fury...and yet the Doctor still tries to save them against all odds. i think the most common response to this episode was 'The Doctor should have gone all Time Lord Victorious on them', and you're right - he should have! but doing that would've affirmed the beliefs of the real-life racists viewers. the Doctor responding not with violence or righteous vengeance is a very deliberate writing choice: we are supposed to come away feeling revolted that he needed to behave that way, to almost be supplicant to the white supremacists. because that is the real-life view of so many people who don't even view themselves as racist: Black people need to 'perform' to a higher standard, than white people just to be considered worthy of respect. the more i watch it, the more i'm convinced this is the best episode of the whole season, and one of the best Doctor Who episodes we've ever had. we were taken off-guard by having an episode overtly about racism set in the future rather than the past, because our tendency is to assume equality is a natural consequence of becoming technologically advanced. this clearly isn't the case, and Dot and Bubble is a masterclass in confronting racism head-on rather than dancing around it for the comfort of white viewers. just. aaargh!!!! absolutely amazing 🔥🔥🔥

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Ghoul/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 4,389 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

A new rock band is taking yoru city by storm, their identities hidden behind masks and personas. You seem to know the lead singer already.

The concert venue buzzed with energy. You stood with your friend, squeezed into the crowd, everyone around you eager and excited. The stage loomed ahead, hidden in shadows, promising something incredible. 

When the lights dimmed, the crowd gasped. Voices hushed, replaced by the thumping of your heart. You leaned forward, trying to see. Nocturne Eclipse—the band everyone was talking about. They were a mystery, hidden behind masks.

The first notes of the song cut through the darkness, sending chills down your spine. Lights flashed, revealing four figures in dark, gothic outfits. Their masks were eerie and beautiful. The lead singer drew your eyes. He moved gracefully, his voice powerful and haunting. 

“Welcome!” he shouted, voice crackling through the microphone. “Let’s have some noise, hmm? I hope everyone has a great night!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Beside you, Melanie tossed dark braids over her shoulder and gripped your arm, face grinning.

As the first song played, you felt it in your bones. You’d never been a fan of rock, but the deep thrum of the bass and the lead’s rough, scratching vocals itched at the back of your brain.

That voice tugged at something deep inside you, a distant memory. You’d heard that voice before; not at concerts, but in your own garage back in college. But that was impossible. Right? 

His mask slipped a bit; and before he could fix it, you caught a flash of a black neck tattoo. A giant hornet curling around his ear. 

Your breath caught. It was him.

Your friend nudged you, snapping you back to the present. You couldn’t look away from the stage. The band’s music was mesmerizing, the crowd swaying as one. For you, everything narrowed to that one familiar face.

The song ended in thunderous applause, but you barely noticed. Your heart raced. As the band started their next song, you pushed through the crowd, desperate to get closer.  Melanie called after you, but you didn't stop.

You reached the stage’s edge, a barrier separating you from the band. You watched, transfixed, as he sang. For a minute he stuttered, mask tilted down to look at you.

Security was tight, blocking your way, but you didn't care. You shouted his name, your voice lost in the noise. He was right there, so close. He looked at you for a moment longer than the rest.

Suddenly, strong hands gripped your arms, pulling you back. Security. 

"Hey! I know him!" you shouted, trying to break free, but firm hands curled around your arms and yanked you away.

The guard shook his head. "Everyone thinks they know the band. Calm down."

"No, you don't understand. I actually do know him!" you insisted, voice rising in desperation.

The guard's eyes narrowed. "You're crazy. Go home and sleep it off."

"I'm sober!" you protested, but he was already dragging you toward the exit.

Outside, the cool night air hit you. The guard released you with a final warning glance. You stood there, heart pounding, mind reeling.

Moments later, your friend darted out of the venue, eyes wide. "What the hell was that about?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "The lead singer... he has the same tattoos as Maddox."

"Maddox?" she repeated, brows furrowed.

"Yes. Maddox. My ex-boyfriend — who died in a car crash a week before graduation four years ago," you said, your voice breaking.

Her eyes widened, disbelief mingling with the realisation of what you were saying. The night air felt colder, the reality of your words sinking in. Maddox was alive, but something was terribly wrong.

Melanie sighed and said, “maybe we should go home.”

She guided you to her car, her touch grounding you as you both slipped into the seats. The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you. You stared out the window, trying to piece together the fragments of what you'd seen.

"I'm sorry for cutting the night short," you said finally, breaking the tension.

Melanie glanced over at you. "Don't worry about it. I'm just concerned. Maybe he just has a similar tattoo and you're... freaking out over nothing."

You shook your head, the memory of that night vivid. "I was with him when he got that tattoo. It was his twenty-first birthday. It was custom. I would know it anywhere."

Melanie didn't reply immediately, focusing on the road ahead. Soon, you reached your flat. The familiar surroundings should have brought comfort, but your mind was still racing. You both went inside, the warm lights of the living room casting a soft glow over everything. Melanie headed to the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove.

She made tea, the ritualistic clinking of cups and spoons soothing in its normalcy. You watched her, your mind still grappling with the impossible reality.

"Melanie," you began, your voice low, "what if Maddox is... like you?"

Melanie paused, looking up at you. Her expression was a mix of sympathy and seriousness. "Being a werewolf won't bring someone back from the dead."

You sipped your tea when she handed it to you, the warmth spreading through you, but it did little to ease the cold knot of fear and confusion in your chest. If Maddox wasn't a werewolf, then what was he? How was he alive after all this time? 

Melanie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry about it. It has to be a coincidence. It can't be Maddox."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself. "Yeah, you're right." You finished your tea, but as Melanie flipped through channels, settling on a light-hearted show, your mind kept drifting back. The tattoo could be a coincidence, but his voice? That was Maddox’s voice. You’d never heard the band live before and never made the connection, but hearing him in person… there was no doubt in your mind.

The evening wore on, and you listened to the TV drone. Melanie laughed at something on the screen, but you barely noticed. 

Finally, you sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed," you said softly.

Melanie looked up, concern still evident in her eyes. "Alright. Try to get some rest."

You nodded and made your way to your bedroom. The familiar space felt strange tonight, the shadows seeming darker, the silence heavier. You changed into your pyjamas, the fabric soft against your skin, and climbed into bed. The hum of the TV in the living room was a faint comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, the night's events playing over and over in your mind. Eventually, exhaustion pulled you under, and you drifted into a restless sleep, your dreams haunted by a voice you thought you'd never hear again.

***

The next morning, you woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand, squinting at the screen. A missed call from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, you played the voicemail.

Your heart nearly stopped. It was Maddox's voice, clear and unmistakable without the din of a concert hall. "I need to see you. Meet me at thirty-two Yarrow Street. Noon." The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief. You tried to call the number back, but it wouldn’t go through. It was as if he had called and then immediately blocked your number.

You sat on the edge of your bed, trying to process. It was silly, maybe even dangerous, but you had to know the truth. You scribbled a quick note for Melanie, explaining you had to step out and would be back later. You left it on the kitchen table, hoping she’d see it soon.

Grabbing your keys, you headed out, the address looping in your mind. You plugged it into your sat nav, and it led you through winding streets and unfamiliar neighbourhoods. Your mind raced with every turn, each passing moment bringing you closer to answers—or more questions.

Eventually, you found yourself in front of an old warehouse. The building loomed large and foreboding, its windows darkened, its structure showing signs of age and neglect. You parked the car and sat for a moment, staring at the imposing facade.

You stepped out of the car, the cool morning air hitting your face as you stared at the old warehouse. The building's structure seemed out of place, a relic of the past nestled in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you, but curiosity and a desperate need for answers propelled you forward.

The warehouse door creaked as you pushed it open. To your surprise, it wasn't locked. You stepped inside, your footsteps echoing in the vast, dimly lit space. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you took in the surroundings. The interior had been transformed into a makeshift home. 

There was a living area with mismatched furniture, a battered sofa, and a low coffee table cluttered with empty bottles and crumpled papers. A messy kitchenette occupied one corner, dishes piled high in the sink, and a faint smell of toast and jam lingered in the air. It was run-down, far from the glamorous lifestyle you’d expect from a new, popular band.

As you ventured further inside, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Your heart pounded in your chest as a figure emerged from the shadows, clad in a hoodie that obscured his face. He paused.

"Hi," the man said, his voice soft and familiar. 

Your breath caught in your throat. There was no mistaking it. It was Maddox. Despite the hoodie concealing his face, you knew it was him. He seemed different, shy and hesitant, nothing like the confident, enigmatic figure you’d seen on stage.

"Maddox?" you whispered, taking a tentative step forward.

"Where are we? How are you alive?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. "What happened to you?"

Your questions tumbled out, one after another, your mind racing to make sense of the impossible. Maddox stood there, his expression pained but resolute. Instead of answering, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. 

The hug was unexpected, and for a moment, you stiffened in shock. Then the familiarity of his embrace washed over you, and you melted into him. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the feeling of being held by him once more. 

You closed your eyes, trying to hold onto the sensation, the reality of his presence grounding you in the here and now. The questions still swirled in your mind, demanding answers, but for this moment, you let them fade away. 

His hold on you tightened slightly, and you felt the subtle tremor in his hands. 

"I have answers," he said softly, “but can we just stay like this a bit longer?"

You nodded, hugging him tighter. His embrace was comforting yet strange. Maddox had always been a bigger guy, a regular at the gym with a solid build. Now, he felt too thin. The broad shoulders were the same, but you could feel his ribs through the fabric of the hoodie. It sent a chill down your spine.

When you finally pulled away, you caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath the hood. They were deep set and black, so different to the bright, warm hazel eyes you remembered. The sight made your heart ache as you pulled away.

Maddox guided you to the makeshift living area and sat you down on the worn sofa. He sat next to you, his posture tense, hands clasped together tightly. He seemed nervous, a far cry from the confident, vibrant man you once knew. 

"I'm sorry," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to leave you... but I had to, for your own safety."

Your heart pounded in your chest. He took a deep breath, the words seeming to cost him more than you could imagine.

"Four years ago, I died," he said, the statement hanging heavy in the air. "You know that, obviouslyI don't remember much from the accident itself, just that everything went black. Then... I woke up in the morgue. I scared the owner half to death when I came back on the table."

Your mind struggled to process his words. It was surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake from. Maddox's eyes searched yours, desperate for understanding.

"I don't know how I came back," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "All I know is that I did. I wasn't the same. I’m... different now. It took me a while to figure out what that meant."

He paused, looking away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I found others like me. The band... we're all like this, more or less. We’re a family now. It's the only way we've survived, by sticking together."

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his confession pressing down like a physical force. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee, grounding yourself in reality.

"What happened to you?" you asked, your voice trembling. "How did you become... this?"

Maddox shook his head slowly. "I don't have all the answers. I wish I did. All I know is that I died and came back. The others—my bandmates—they have similar stories. We don't know why or how, but we're trying to make the best of it."

You looked at him, seeing the pain and confusion etched into his features. It was clear that he had been through hell and back, and the journey had left scars deeper than the physical.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Every day, I missed you."

Maddox reached out, taking your hand in his. "I missed you too. Every single day. I think about you all the time, the things I would have done differently if I’d known this would happen.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the emotional floodgates breaking. The pain of his loss, the confusion of his return, and the fear of what it all meant—it was overwhelming.

He squeezed your hand, his touch a lifeline in the storm of emotions. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly. "I’m sorry. Would it have been better if you never knew?"

You shook your head, squeezing his hand in return. “No, God no. I’m glad I know the truth.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was cold. "Can I see you?" you asked, your voice trembling with both fear and determination.

Maddox hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in his dark eyes. "I don’t look like I used to," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even look human."

You nodded, your resolve unwavering. "I want to see you."

Slowly, he reached up and pulled back the hood. His black hair fell across his face, streaked with pure white. He was thin, almost gaunt, with sunken eyes. They were entirely black, save for a faint blueish glow in the center.

He looked at you nervously, waiting for your reaction. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear of rejection. Instead of recoiling, you felt a surge of desire—love, longing.

Without thinking, you lurched forward and kissed him. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through your entire body. His lips were cool against yours, but you didn’t carel. You poured everything into that kiss—the years of pain, the longing, the relief at finding him again.

Maddox’s initial shock melted away as he responded, his hands moving to cradle your face. He kissed you back with a hunger that mirrored your own, a deep, aching need. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you, lost in the moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear again. You could feel his desperation, his need to hold onto this moment, to make up for lost time.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the now unfamiliar contours of his body. It didn’t matter. He was still Maddox, still the man you loved.

When you finally pulled away. Only you were breathless. Did Maddox even need to breathe?

You stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of the man you once knew. Despite the changes, despite the inhuman features, the essence of Maddox was still there.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief, of joy. "I don’t care what you look like," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You’re still you."

Maddox’s eyes softened, a small, grateful smile playing on his lips. "I’ve missed you so much," he murmured.

You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. 

You kissed him again, slower this time, savouring the moment. You slung a leg over his, tugging him close, and rested your head against his shoulder. 

He held you tightly, his touch both familiar and foreign. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "For my cold skin, for being... well, this."

You lifted your head to look at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I like it," you replied sincerely. "This new you has its own charm. Besides, you're still Maddox. That's all that matters."

He looked at you with those gorgeous dark eyes, then pulled you even closer. You buried yourself into his side, feeling his steady, if slightly abnormal, heartbeat. 

"It's funny," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "You were right in front of me this whole time. The band is one of Melanie's favourites. I mean, she loves Embers too — but you’re definitely top three."

Maddox chuckled, a sound that was both familiar and comforting. "Yeah, I’ve been keeping an eye on you from a distance."

You looked up at him, seeing a hint of the old Maddox in his expression. The tension in his features seemed to ease, replaced by a sense of tentative happiness.

He sighed, a contented sound, and kissed the top of your head. "It's been so long since I've felt anything close to normal," he admitted. "Being here with you... it feels like coming home."

You smiled, nuzzling deeper into his embrace. "It feels like home to me too."

You nestled closer to Maddox, your head resting against his chest as you watched him from the corner of your eye. The changes were undeniable. His teeth seemed sharper, peeking out slightly when he spoke. His fingers were longer, more slender, giving his hands an almost skeletal appearance. There was a subtle wrongness to his features, a hint of something not right.

You found yourself strangely drawn to these changes for reasons you couldn’t place. They were a part of him now, a part of the new Maddox. Despite his worries, you didn’t find it gross or repulsive. He was still as beautiful as you remembered.

He shifted slightly, his arms tightening around you, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I know I look... different," he said, his voice hesitant. "You don’t have to sit so close if you don’t want to."

You looked up at him, your gaze steady. "I don’t mind," you insisted softly. "It's different, sure, but it's still you. I love you, Maddox, no matter what you look like."

He sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Can I meet the rest of the band?" you asked, curious about the people who had become his new family. "I want to know everything about your life now."

Maddox hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Maybe," he said slowly. "Beneath the masks and the band getup, some of them look... way worse than I do.."

You shook your head, undeterred. "I don’t think I care," you said firmly. "If they’re your family, then I want to meet them. I want to understand your world."

He studied you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, his expression softened. "Alright," he agreed quietly. "It might take a while for them to warm up to you."

You nodded, understanding the caution. "I’ll take my time," you promised. "I just want to be a part of your life again, Maddox. All of it."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I want you to be," he whispered. "More than anything."

Maddox pulled out his phone, typing quickly. You watched him, the familiar lines of concentration etched into his face as he messaged the group. Moments later, his phone buzzed with a response. He read it, his expression shifting slightly.

"Jaehyun isn't thrilled about me telling you," he said, glancing at you. "Though they'll meet with you if I insist."

You grinned. “Great, I can’t wait.”

***

A few days later, the moment finally arrived. You sat with Maddox on the worn sofa, curled together for comfort. Maddox’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your arm.

"It’ll be okay," he murmured, sensing your anxiety. "They’re cautious, but they’ll come around."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. The seconds ticked by slowly until a soft knock echoed through the warehouse. Maddox squeezed your shoulder before standing to open the door. Jaehyun stepped inside, his presence imposing even in the dim light.

Jaehyun removed his mask slowly; he was even more gaunt than Maddox, eyes sunken and pale. His skin was grey and withered, pulled too tightly across jutting cheekbones. 

He was an unsettling sight, but you kept your expression steady, determined not to show your nerves.

"Jaehyun," Maddox greeted, motioning him inside. "This is her."

Jaehyun stepped forward, his eyes scanning you critically. For a moment, you wondered if this was a test, a challenge to see if you could handle the reality of their world. He held out a hand, skeletal fingers extended in a gesture of introduction.

You took his hand without hesitation, shaking it firmly. His grip was cool and surprisingly strong. "Nice to meet you," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

Jaehyun studied you for a moment longer before his tense expression softened. "It's nice to meet you too," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone with such a daunting appearance.

Relief washed over you as the initial tension dissipated. Maddox returned to your side, pulling you back into his embrace. Jaehyun took a seat across from you, still observing but with a hint of curiosity rather than suspicion.

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere slowly easing. Jaehyun's acceptance was the first step, and you could feel the barriers beginning to lower. 

"You know," Jaehyun said, breaking the silence, "Maddox talks about you a lot. Always going on about how he wished he could speak to you again. I’m glad he had the chance.”

You smiled, the warmth of his words helping to dispel your lingering nerves. "I'm glad, too. I’m sorry if… if me insisting on meeting you guys is annoying or anything.”

“It’s fine, you seem like the good sort. Stick around long enough, and you’ll see we’re not so bad. Just a bit... different."

The tension in the room eased further as Jaehyun relaxed, leaning back in his seat. You glanced at Maddox, and he squeezed your shoulder.

The door creaked open, and the last member of the band entered. They moved with a quiet, almost hesitant step, immediately drawing your attention. This newcomer, who must have been the drummer, was markedly different from the others. Their face was a gaunt landscape of heavy scarring, the skin tight and withered. Their arms were exposed, revealing a more gruesome sight—several fingers were missing, and the ones that remained were elongated and claw-like.

Juni’s eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead they flicked around the room before landing on you only briefly. They seemed to shrink back slightly, clearly uncomfortable and unsure.

Maddox stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Juni’s shoulder, and gently guided them into the room.

"This is Juni," Maddox introduced softly.

Juni shrugged off Maddox’s touch and wandered over to linger behind Sloane, their posture tense. The contrast between their somber presence and Sloane’s vibrant energy was striking.

You took a deep breath and offered a tentative smile. "Hello," you managed, your voice steady despite your own nerves.

Juni’s gaze met yours for a fleeting moment before they looked away, giving a slight nod in acknowledgment. 

Sloane chimed in with a cheerful tone. "Don’t mind Juni, they’re just a bit shy," he said, his grin wide. "Trust me though, they’re the best drummer you’ll ever hear."

Juni’s lips curled into a small, appreciative smile, though they remained close to Sloane, still wary. You could see the effort it took for them to be here.

Maddox returned to your side, pulling you close. His lips brushed against yours in a brief, tender kiss. His breath tickled against your skin and you smiled.

"Get a room, you two," Sloane teased, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Maddox rolled his eyes but smiled, his hand squeezing yours. "Now that you’ve met everyone, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. The room grew quiet, all eyes on you, waiting for your response.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, glancing around at the faces before you. Jaehyun, eerie eyes boring into yours; Sloane, so welcoming; and Juni, nervous but undeniably gentle. They were an unusual group, but somehow they all just fit together.

"I'm glad you found a family like this, Maddox," you said finally, your voice steady and sincere. "People who understand you, who you can rely on. If you’re all willing, I’d like to be a part of it too."

Sloane's face lit up with delight. "Hell yeah!" he exclaimed.

Maddox’s eyes softened, and he pulled you in for another kiss. He cupped your cheek, put everything into that kiss and it left you reeling. 

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were grinning.

"Welcome to the family.”

[mysteriousbp]

We saw alot about kanako as an amalgamate but we have not seen anything about half-amalgamate kanako (first post kanako in a panic attack) and im really curious about that.

Does she have amalgamate powers (shapeshifting and possibly ignoring the laws of physics) or does she just turn a bit goopy is this something kanako and possibly clover control or is it more subconscious (i like the idea that instead of a hurt sprite she she will start to melt like zenith martlet) im a huge fan of the concept of kanako being back to normal but under certain circumstances she goes back to being an amalgamate só i really want to know what your take is

Bonus questions

Does kanako have a fear of neddles

Does she consider the other amalgamates as family, visits them and possibly tries to find a cure for them using her father's research in her teen years

And finally I DEMAND WHOLESOME ART OF GOOPY KANAKO AND CEROBA, SHE HAS SUFFERED FROM WAY TO MUCH ANGST LET US COMPENSATE WITH HAVING WHOLESOME ART OF MOTHER AND DAUGHTER BONDING

(Hope this doesn't give you to much trouble i have been watching your contente since the first post of this au and i love it i hope to see more of your contente and i hope you make more of this au)

Kanako half-amalgamate form is something subconscious that happens when whoever is in control has a panic attack or is really stressed out. 

And no, she doesn't have amalgamate powers. She just becomes goopy. (Even then, Amalgamates being able to shapeshift is kind of dumb. If they can shapeshift, why don't they just shapeshift into a more normal-looking form???)

Anyway. You said that you guys haven't seen anything about half-amalgamate Kanako? THEN HAVE THIS :D

A thing that I mentioned before that I haven't gone deep into is that my AU version of Kanako has Cleithrophobia. And that's the fear of being trapped. Which she gained after being trapped for almost 2 years in the true lab. It just felt right to give her that fear. And she gets the worst cases of panic attacks when she gets trapped inside an elevator or in a place where the only way to leave is an elevator and it's not working. She's just a little kid who was in a place she couldn't leave after losing a family member and not being able to see or hear from her mother. That would affect a child's mind really badly.

(If someone is wondering why Clover is only on one panel, it's because Kanako's brain subconsciously blocks everything around her when in a panic attack. Even Clover. So Clover has a hard time snapping Kanako out of her panic attack. And also, we only see Kanako's pov to see what's going through her head when she's panicking. Everything else, it's Sadie and GK pov.)

Bonus questions

"Does kanako have a fear of neddles"

Yes. She also developed Trypanophobia after the accident. Clover, it's the one in control of the body when they go get a vaccination or something else... After Kanako burned a doctor's office after using a fireball out of panic.

"Does she consider the other amalgamates as family, visits them and possibly tries to find a cure for them using her father's research in her teen years"

Kanako does consider the other Amalgamates to have distant families, and she does visit them from time to time.

And no, she doesn't try to cure them. Her father died from a soul experiment; she almost died too, and the other fallen monsters needed to melt together to stay alive. She knows that soul experiments are dangerous. She doesn't want to change, making things worse. It's already a miracle that the fallen monsters are still alive. Why risk killing them with a research that has already caused so much pain?

"And finally I DEMAND WHOLESOME ART OF GOOPY KANAKO AND CEROBA, SHE HAS SUFFERED FROM WAY TO MUCH ANGST LET US COMPENSATE WITH HAVING WHOLESOME ART OF MOTHER AND DAUGHTER BONDING"

Okay.

Have Ceroba comforting Kanako after she had a panic attack from a nightmare she had.

(Creatures notes: I don't know why... But Kanako with half-amalgamated hair looks great to me...)

[pendulum-sonata]

I've watched the Netflix Atla...

And I actually really enjoyed it and now I can say for certain that some of you are either:

Just mad from the moment the creators weren't involved and feel some sort of proxy need for retribution.

Salty because "it isn't exactly the same as the cartoon", uh, yeah? Maybe that's why it's an adaptation?

Your eyes have fused with the the nostalgia lenses of your childhood, and somehow you're proud of it?

An angry k@taanger, who despite having won what some people call the first ship war ever in fandom ( sw and xfiles fandom are all side-eyeing you btw) have the need to remind everyone how your ship is supposedly an integral part of the series (it isn't)

Mean, some of you are just plain mean, and are obsessed with spreading as much vitriol as possible.

I'm not gonna claim it's perfect, but you know what? The cartoon wasn't perfect either, you people have put it up in a pedestal for too long, and believe me, I very much was 13 when the show first aired, I was the target demographic of it, it was my very first online fandom, it was a formative part of my teens, and even so, here I am, telling you guys, that you really need to chill.

Anyway, I enjoyed it I'm really hoping for a second season :P

[evankinkley]

For a fandom who overanalyzes words like "here", "back" and "coming out" every chance they get, you sure are bad at listening and watching other scenes when they're being played out.

[i-am-become-a-name]

Was having a wee think about five, (what's new, you may ask) and ruminating on why I am so very peevish about his semi-recent designation as 'the (single) dad' doctor. Like, yes, he travels with a young-ish cohort - a boy who never gets the chance to grow up, a girl who does and begins to chafe under his wing. But then Tegan has studied, moved to a different country to start her job. Turlough was a soldier, exiled from his own world.

And five is young too (at least at the beginning) - he's exuberant, he jumps in feet first and expects the best of everyone. He also loses almost as much in his short life as eight does in the audios and books. And it's such a short life.

Just pointing at five and going 'dad!', to Nyssa and Tegan 'daughters!' and Adric 'son!' ignores all those cultural differences, all that tension that it's because of five Nyssa's family, her whole world is gone. Tegan's aunt is dead, and he can't seem to get her home. Adric went off with someone he admired but who is now a completely different person, and (I'm starting sense a theme) can never go home. It smooths over all the fascinating interplay between a crew where none of the characters quite seem to fit together, where all of them are lost, and have lost such vital things because of the doctor.

It's boring, and it's reductive, and I've noticed it a hell of a lot more since polls were added on here. Maybe it's easier to point at a character and go 'chanel boots', or 'single dad', or 'doctor I would want to smoke weed with', but it also feels like a massive dumbing down where people don't want to see complexities in fiction anymore, they only want to nice fluffy bits and that's all that the fandom is becoming. Like people have been raised on a disney adaptation of a fairytale where suddenly everything has a simplistic happy ending and that has to be applied to everything else now too.

And obviously it's not just the fifth doctor and his companions where this is happening, they're just ones close to my heart, but this simplification diminishes us all. Reach for those vnas, edas, early big finish audios. Absorb those complexities, think about those consequences. Get more fucked up about it all.

[jankwritten]

yall wanna know how fucked up my anxiety is about some shit

i scroll past a post that's about a topic i don't like. whatever, it's fine. i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't care about. that's normal.

i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't like or care about but the person presenting it is a person of color? i IMMEDIATELY feel immensely guilty and need to "compensate" by "proving" it wasn't because of race by also skipping other random posts, JUST IN CASE someone thinks I'm racist because I didn't want to watch a video on a topic I didn't like or care about, that happened to be presented by a person of color.

this just in on: the police in my brain are loud and i'm scared of them

[oh-meow-swirls]

was looking through old posts and i'm surprised to see that i seemingly didn't have any commentary on anything in 3 in chapter 7, 8 or 9, the posts related to 3's story go from "my first reaction when i saw yopple-bot was 'i love you. but also you are definitely the boss for this chapter-'" to "i have been in hell all day. hell being bada-bing tower." funny to me cuz those chapters are like, the best ones sdfkljsdfjfsdkjlfsdjkl-

[arctic-hands]

The subject came up today and I can't decide so I'm throwing it out there because I don't give a fuck and also having survived all of this kinda makes me sound like a badass

[svtskneecaps]

thank you for bearing with my purgatory posting and i'm also glad to see i'm not the only one who still has this fungus eating away at my brain matter. seeing other purgatory posting in the tag makes me feel better lmfao.

i'm not done btw, posting will (probably) continue as i revisit vods. wanted to extend a thanks in the interim, since i know how contentious the event was in the moment. i kinda thought the general consensus was most people hated thinking about it, but there's been a weird amount of engagement and yknow other people talking. makes me happy to know i'm not alone here!

[asterdeer]

i know i know relationships change and people grow apart but i don't think i'll ever forgive ofmd for making me wait 18 calendar months for an olu/jim reunion and. they. break. them. up.

[betweenheroesandvillains]

.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Literally cannot comprehend that some people just... go places.. I know someone who just got back from a 2 week vacation and then the day they came home they went out to eat at a restaurant (at a busy time mind you, like 7pm on a saturday night!!) and then went to a mall to shop and then woke up early for brunch the next day and were at a bar in the afternoon and so on and so on and it’s like... god don’t you get tired of being places? If I go grocery shopping for 20 minutes on monday and then have a doctor appointment on tuesday, I am SO tired of leaving the house that I want to do nothing for the next two weeks lol...  Doing multiple major tasks/trips in one day and ENJOYING it and SEEEKING IT OUT is utterly inconceivable to me..  we are different creatures entirely lol

[neuromantis]

i want pop culture to shut up. every time i have to look something interesting up, i just get sucked into a rabbithole. also every time i want to look at news.

and the comments. oh my god the comments.

[emdotcom]

You. Nuance now.

You can like shit that has problematic shit in it, without being a bad person. You don't have to give me a list of EVERY bad thing a piece of media you enjoy does, & why it's bad, but it DOES help to be mindful of that shit. You're allowed to enjoy your bad thing. You don't have to explain it or qualify it to anyone -- you know it's bad, we all know it's bad.

That said, if you watch something with bad shit, people will indeed judge you, or want you to not talk about your thing, or may even avoid you/block you for posting about it. While I know that feels bad, it's just a fact, bud. Those people don't directly want to hurt you, they just feel real strongly, & I think they're allowed to feel that, & I think they're allowed to act on that, to a certain point.

FURTHERMORE, there is a fucking line that you do not, do not, do NOT cross! Where that is will be different for most people, & fuzzy for all. For me, I can tolerate a lot of shit, but another person may not. I also think there is a definitive line you don't cross, which is media that is actively hurting somebody. I find it helpful to ask, "Is consuming this thing harmful? Can I hurt somebody this way?" I.E. you buy the queen terf antisemitism & transphobia game, beaming money DIRECTLY into the queen terf 's bank account, which sh has publicly, VERBALLY said she treats as a person accepting her shit beliefs, & she will then use the money to lobby horrendous bills. You are not enjoying garbage, at this point. You are actively doing something wrong, & you fucking know it, & I don't have the time nor the desire to waste another single goddam breath on telling you that any further.

I am not saying that you are required to go invest in problematic things. I am not saying you need to see something you KNOW will upset you. I am saying you are allowed to keep a list of media that you will never, ever touch, that you hate enough that you will not even talk to somebody about it. I am saying you can block a person over liking a piece of shit media you fucking hate. I am saying you can have a list of things that bug you so badly, that you immediately drop something just for having it, & you don't have to qualify anything on that list to me, or explain why -- you can just avoid that thing -- that's just fine. I am saying you can like something with bad shit in it, & I promise you do NOT need to give me a 5k words essay on why it's bad -- this isn't school, you're not getting Oops I Like Something Bad 😞😔 homework.

I am saying you are human. You are meat & bone, with a bit of electricity running through it. You are fallable. You are allowed to like something that isn't good. You do not have to be forever pure, forever flawless marble, because you are not made of stone, & even if you were, marble is worn down & away, with time. Nothing is infallible or perfect, in this world, & that's nice, actually.

I'm also saying, what a fucking miserable way to go through life, seeing everything that is not perfectly pristine as a sin, as a crime, as something that even an association with makes you guilty. There's so many things to see, to read, to watch, to share, & you're being FUCKING CATHOLIC ABOUT IT??? DO I NEED TO REPENT?? FOR LIKING SOMETHING NOT 10000% CLEAN?? SHOULD I PAY MY FUCKING TITHES OR JUST GET THE LASHES. GRABS YOU. MAIMS.