#bad buddy ly

[chronicowboy]

can't wait for eddie to come clean to buck about everything in the diaz kitchen in the dead of night and it's a tough conversation, a little ugly, and the lights are low and eddie can barely look at buck and buck can't look away because how did he miss this. he's always so wrapped up in a relationship when eddie needs him the most and he always ends up missing eddie's declines until he's already at rock bottom. but this isn't about him. this is about eddie. and eddie's tearing up and he's chasing his dead wife who he can't ever get back and he's drowning in guilt and he doesn't know what to do and buck doesn't know what to do either. but he remembers the knot in his stomach and the way it didn't untangle itself until eddie hugged him. so he moves round the island and wraps eddie in his arms and eddie breaks and buck holds him through it all.

[rrat-king]

hey i know we are all like ‘fuck him’ but what if oisin doesn’t know?

he knew that kipperlilly was there to kill the proctor, his job was to plane shift her out after, but we only saw his hand. what if he doesn’t know that the plan went sour? brennan said that killing buddy was a reaction to getting caught, never the original plan.

we only saw oisin’s hand. what if he doesn’t know buddy’s dead?

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

I wonder…

Does Eddie know how much Buck cares about him? About his opinion, specifically. For sure, he sees glimpses of Buck really caring what Eddie thinks of him (and of their relationship). Buck apologizing for not seeing him more clearly during the lawsuit and the fight club arc, even though, according to Eddie, they’re “way past that”. Then again when Buck admits to Eddie that he lost it when telling Christopher that Eddie got shot, as though Buck is looking for penance.

What Eddie doesn’t see is the panic and the anxiety Buck feels over, not his bisexuality, but his lying to Eddie about it. Buck admits this only to Maddie. He is genuinely more distressed at the thought of hiding things from Eddie than he is at discovering he likes men too in his 30s (or coming out to his sister, for that matter). Eddie is appropriately reassuring and supportive of their friendship and of Buck’s newfound identity when Buck comes out to him, which means that Eddie never actually sees the turmoil Buck felt at not telling him earlier. He doesn’t know that he’s the one Buck was most nervous to tell.

So, I think he knows that Buck holds his opinion in high standard, because their friendship is one of trust, balance, and devotion, but I don’t think he really understands how much Buck considers him when it comes to the big changes. They are partners in more than just the job, but does Eddie see that? Does he understand that his consideration of Buck is returned just as much?

See, I don’t think he does. And that’s why I need someone to show him.

[dragontatoes]

every other "transandrophobia isn't real" post I see on here is about how we not only don't care about trans women and complain constantly about them not caring about us but also actively wish to harm them for insinuating we have male privilege when in reality

my transfemme and transmasc friends and I do care about each other a lot. for many, we are the only safe people in their life for trans related things.

nobody tells the transfemmes to stay in their place or that the transmascs have it worse

nobody tells the transmascs we benefit from male privilege or that the transfemmes have it worse

the transmascs have expressed how painful it is to be infantilized and treated like they were peer pressured to sacrifice femininity, huh i fucking wonder what this could say about society's perspective on femininity which is attributed to all kinds of people regardless of identity

the transfemmes have expressed how painful it is to be feared or viewed as aggressive, huh I fucking wonder what this could say about society's perspective on masculinity which is attributed to all kinds of people regardless of their identity

nobody acts jealous of someone's gender related issues. we joke about how we wish we could donate boobs, uteruses, dicks, and hormones to each other. But if someone said "you're lucky" they'd be quickly and rightly told to not.

some of them are multigender and basically could not have skin in this fuckheaded game you've made up if you tried

You can't be talking to trans people in real life and still have it stuck in your head that trans people are the main perpetrators of any kind of transphobia, not without trying really hard not to pay attention. "Transandrophobia truthers" are simply not doing the shit you're saying they're doing. They're not even, like, a group. Idk, maybe they are on reddit or some other website I don't care about but let's try to focus on real things that matter for this post?

We can and should talk about how masculinity is vilified in its own right sometimes and how this leads to mistreatment of all kinds of trans people.

[pennedinblood]

as of ten minutes ago we are officially Jobless™️. my sign to retire early and devote the remainder of my existence to writing toxic old man yaoi

[eissaphir]

Pavi at the Italian Renaissance Fair: "Dad loves me!"

[melloneah]

rant in tags tw death sorry

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Lab Rats AU: Prologue

Cesar had been missing for weeks, and despite the danger, Mark decides to figure out why.

TW: Body horror, blood, needles, kidnapping mention (I think that’s it-)

Notes: this is around 6′600 words long. Yeah! Lab au writing!! These characters are miserable!! Hope you enjoy-

-----

 September 15th, 1992

 Cesar had been missing for three weeks.

Mark remembered seeing him at their high school, like usual. However, he seemed especially…paranoid that day; complaining about strange noises outside his house, and seeing things peeking in through his window. Mark understood the feeling of paranoia too well, though something about Cesar’s retelling of those events felt more unsettling, making Mark feel only more so when Cesar didn’t show up at school the following day. Mark told himself he was worrying too much, and that Cesar was probably just sick, or out of town for a while, but after his many calls to his phone remained unanswered, he figured that something must’ve been wrong. He couldn’t rest until he knew what was going on, being the reason he was driving to Cesar’s house in the middle of the night.

Mark’s tired, yet intense gaze was fixated on the road in front of him, the headlights of his car shining on the damp asphalt under it. He was wearing a pale grey sweatshirt, along with a pair of blue jeans. Around his neck was a silver necklace with a golden cross on it, which rested on his chest. His brown hair was swept to the left side, partially covering his acne-covered forehead. His brows were furrowed in a look of concern, even though his eyebrows were naturally low, making him look pissed off without trying.

It was particularly dark that night, with the moon being blotted out by the layer of clouds from the recent rain. It wasn’t particularly cold, though Mark couldn’t help but shudder slightly, making him turn up the heater in his car. He wished he was at home; lying in his mostly comfortable bed, covered in multiple blankets, with the only light coming from a small nightlight he refused to mention because it made him seem childish. He was tired, but couldn’t sleep without knowing exactly what was going on with his friend.

Mark took in a deep breath, his fingers pressed against the leather steering wheel, his thumbs rubbing over the textured surface. He felt a pressure in his chest, with his stupid subconscious wondering if he was going to accidentally give himself a heart attack. He kept thinking to himself: “You’re overreacting, Cesar’s gonna be fine when you get there, and all this will be for nothing.” However, he couldn’t make himself fully believe his reassurances, as much as he tried. He took in deep breaths, letting them out before taking in another, hoping for relief from the tense pressure in his body.

He turned off of the main road, onto a gravel lane, and continued to drive until his headlights hit the side of Cesar’s house. He parked in front of the garage, sighing deeply as he looked at the home. He felt a pit in his gut, despite never feeling it towards Cesar’s home before, even in the middle of the night. Mark remembered the times where he’d stay the night, keeping Cesar company while Ms. Torres slept in the other room. They’d have to try their best to stay quiet, despite them both wanting to laugh loudly at each other’s stupid jokes. Mark was just hoping this would be something similar, despite the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it wouldn’t.

The home felt so desolate, with no lights on and its windows only leading to darkness. It almost felt like a void was trying to swallow the house up, with it being completely black aside from whatever Mark’s headlights hit. It felt unwelcoming, making Mark almost want to hightail it out of there without even going inside, feeling immense dread just being near the home. However, Mark didn’t drive all that way for nothing, so he might as well do what he needed to do and get out of there as soon as possible.

Mark stepped out of his car, clutching his flashlight in one hand, and his trusty Desert Eagle in the other, his trembling fingers wrapped tightly around its handle. He walked to the front door, taking in yet another deep breath before letting it out and knocking on the door. No response; something about that made Mark sick. Mark shakily reached for the doorknob, pulling his arm back before thinking hard. For all he knew, Cesar and his mother were asleep, and Mark was about to break into their home without warning. However, when he turned the doorknob and realized it was unlocked, he only felt worse about wandering inside.

He shone his flashlight into the dark living room, seeing that one of the end tables was knocked over, and that there were random objects strewn around the room. It looked as if it had been robbed, which wasn’t out of the question considering Cesar’s mother set up cameras due to a robbery a few years prior. However, nothing appeared to be missing; only broken or misplaced. Mark felt his heart sink as he slowly walked through the home, walking into the kitchen and looking around to see everything in disarray. A kitchen knife was missing from its block, and there were faint stains in the tiled flooring, along with shards of a vase. It looked as if someone came in and swept everything off of the tables.

Mark looked towards the corner of the room towards the roof, seeing that the cameras were off, meaning Mark most likely couldn’t have found anything from the CCTV footage. However, when mark glanced towards the back hallway, he noticed something in the corner of it, with Mark being able to identify what it was when he walked closer; a messily folded piece of paper. Mark hesitantly kneeled on the ground, placing his gun on the wooden floor before grabbing the paper, unfolding it as he pointed his flashlight towards it, reading the hastily written, barely legible message:

“There are people outside, they cut the phone lines

They’re here for me and are trying to get in

I see MBT on their uniforms, pleas hel ”

MBT?

Mark shoved the paper into his pocket before grabbing his gun, fumbling with it for a second before standing up. The acronym MBT sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn’t completely sure what it meant. He remembered it being mentioned around town, but only in hushed whispers and crazy conspiracies. From what he remembered it was just a medical research facility somewhere outside of Mandela, so…why did Cesar mention it?

Mark glanced to his left, seeing that not only was the door to the guest bedroom open, but the glass doors that led outside were as well. He stood up, swallowing hard before walking into the room, flicking on the light. He looked out into the backyard, seeing very faint tire tracks and footprints in the mud, though the rain seemed to have washed away most of them. Every single faint track led into the woods, and even though Mark didn’t go through the tree line, he knew deep inside where the trail was leading; to the highway.

Mark knew the best thing to do was to call the police and report a kidnapping. However, considering how dismissive the MCPD was towards the disappearances plaguing Mandela County, he doubted that it would’ve been any use. Mark was in no way capable of handling rescuing his friend from possible kidnappers, but…he had no other reliable option. Mark’s brows furrowed, breathing in and out multiple times before sighing. “Fucking…shit.”

Mark jogged around the house, hopping back into his car before starting it up again, backing out of the driveway and turning back down the gravel lane. He should’ve called for help the first few days of Cesar being missing, but he no longer had the time to regret his decisions. He drove towards the highway, wondering where the “kidnappers” would’ve gone, deciding to drive towards the border of Mandela, knowing it wasn’t too far away. Mark only hoped they didn’t flee to the other counties; Mark only had so much time in a day to search.

Mark continued to drive, the dread in his gut only becoming worse as he approached the border between Mandela and Bythorne. What if Cesar was long dead; with his body thrown in a ditch somewhere, half decomposed. Mark shook off the images his mind came up with before he caught something in the corner of his eye. He was in between two small fields, cloaked by darkness aside from the light coming from Mark’s car. He slowed down, parking on the side of the road as he squinted towards the right field, seeing something in between the wheat. There was a small, worn down dirt road that led into the woods.

Mark really was a fucking moron; he’s seen so many movies laying out why what he was doing was fucking stupid. “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” sprung to mind, making Mark think he was going to end up being chopped up, eaten, and having his bones made into a couch by a family of cannibals. Mark could feel himself wanting to dissociate just to make himself believe he wasn’t really putting himself in danger, but he knew he needed to focus, as much as possible. Cesar was in danger, and by God, Mark wasn’t going to lose his only friend. He just hoped he wasn’t too late, and that if he found Cesar, he would forgive him for dragging his feet.

Mark reluctantly turned down the dirt road, carefully driving through the field, pausing at the edge of the forest before continuing his drive. The forest was dark, and the road was uneven, feeling as if it was supposed to be barely discernable from the regular forest floor. It felt so claustrophobic, despite it being out in the open, feeling as if the trees were closing in. Mark could feel the pit in his gut growing the further he went, considering turning around and abandoning the mission. However, when he spotted distant lights, he stopped the car, turning off the headlights.

He could see a sort of parking lot, with trucks and cars in the many spots. Though it was barely illuminated by the streetlights, Mark could see something clearly on the side of some of the vehicles: “MANDELA BIOTECH”. Most of the vehicles however were plain black or grey from what he saw, making him wonder what the hell Mandela BioTech was doing. Either way, it seemed Cesar’s note really was referring to the company, but why?

Before Mark could think any more, he turned towards his window, seeing a set of headlights approaching from a branching road. Mark gasped, ducking and hiding under the dashboard as soon as the headlights hit the side of his car. Mark heard the brakes of the vehicle squeak, waiting in terrified silence as he heard the truck’s door open. Mark’s wide eyes looked at the window as he heard footsteps approaching, a flashlight being shone into the car right above Mark’s head.

“What’s going on?” Another person said, their voice muffled.

“Is this vehicle authorized?” The man looking through the window asked.

“…Should I call this in?”

“Ask around. I swear to God if another one of the new recruits left their vehicle here I’m gonna lose it.” The man said before backing away from the car.

Mark let out his breath before peeking through the window, seeing that the men that were looking at his car were decked in FBI-like body armor and masks, with guns on holsters next to their hips. They entered the truck before driving by Mark’s vehicle, letting Mark try and calm down. “What kind of fucking medical facility requires armed guards?” He asked himself, wondering if it was safe to leave. He felt like he wandered onto the set of some sort of Sci Fi horror movie, thinking that it was most likely wise to leave now. However, something in his heart refused to leave; if Cesar was in there, Mark was going to get him out. God damn it, he knew he was stupid for doing so.

Mark carefully opened the car door, crawling out and lightly closing it behind him, looking around before quietly running down the path, avoiding any lights that could blow his cover. He was tired, cold, scared, yet stupidly brave, and was beginning to wonder if his gut feeling was going to end with him dead. He refused to let himself think about his six year old sister, Sarah, as even the idea of her wondering where he was made him want to cry.

 Mark soon found himself at one of the outer walls, glancing behind him whenever he heard even the faintest of sounds. In front of him was a row of dumpsters, garbage bins, and containers labeled “BIOHAZARD”, among other random bits of parts and garbage. However, when he looked up, he saw the entrance to a vent, embedded in the wall above one of the dumpsters. Mark swallowed hard, flapping his hands before groaning quietly, grabbing a metal rod that was resting against the other pieces of trash. He placed his gun on top of the dumpster before he climbed on top of it, unable to ignore the stickiness on his hands that made him want to claw his skin off; he instead just wiped them on his pants.

He jammed the metal pole in between the metal grate in front of the vent, pushing against it to try and open it. “Don’t be loud, don’t be loud, don’t be loud—” Mark whispered as the grate began to creak open, all before becoming loose enough for Mark to pull it open. He nearly lost his footing as he pulled the grating off, all before he tossed it onto the grass behind him. He turned towards the vent, feeling cool air hit his face and being able to smell cleaning alcohol and chemicals. He took in a deep breath, flapping his hands once again as he tried to shake off his trepidation, pushing aside his worries as he grasped his gun and crawled inside the metal vent, not once noticing the camera on the wall filming him.

 The cameras red light blinked as it caught Mark’s legs disappear into the vent, its footage being monochromatic and overlaid with static, yet still clear enough to catch his movement. The light from the camera feed reflected on the heavily dilated eyes of the watcher, their eyes partially covered by their wavy, pale grey hair. They coughed up speckles of phlegm and blood onto a tissue, before they began to chuckle; a choked, wheezing chuckle. “How…fascinating.” They stated, their permanent smile wide on their face as they continued to look at the footage.

A boy, no older than 17, breaking into their facility, believing he wouldn’t be caught? How ridiculously idiotic, yet curious nonetheless. They would have applauded him for his bravery if it weren’t the stupidest idea they’ve ever seen. They had a small button under their desk; alarms would blare and every single staff member of the expansive facility would be on the intruder’s tail at just a single press. However, something about a young man’s attempt to break in was amusing to them, so despite the option being there, they decided holding out was the more fun option. After all, they wanted to know why he was there. What could spur such a dangerous act? They supposed they would just have to wait and see, if he didn’t get stuck somewhere and die in the vents of course. The smell of rot would be hard to remove.

  Mark wasn’t claustrophobic; however he still found himself fighting against a panic attack as he crawled through the steel vents. His hand was white-knuckled, gripping his gun as if his life depended on it, checking every few seconds to make sure he didn’t accidentally move his finger to the trigger. Thunks and clanks echoed throughout the vent system from Mark’s shoes hitting the metal, and his weight causing the metal to bend slightly. He knew he wasn’t necessarily skinny, but he figured he wasn’t too heavy to actually break anything. He hoped.

He found himself at an intersection, seeing two ways to go. He looked down both sides, before he took in a breath and moved to his left. He had no clue where to go, or even what to do once he was out of the vents. He still didn’t know where Cesar was being kept, nor if he was even in the right place in the facility. However, Mark supposed it was too late now, as when he found himself at a dead end with a grate under him, he realized it was time to leave.

The grate smashed against the floor when Mark pushed it out, causing him to flinch and wince at the noise. He peeked out of the vent, seeing no one in the blank, white halls before he hopped down, his ankles stinging when he fell to the ground. It smelled like a hospital; overly sanitized and the air feeling artificially clean. All Mark could hear was the air conditioning, and the sound of faint medical machinery. It felt surreal, seeing how empty the halls seemed, but despite no one being nearby, Mark couldn’t help but feel as though someone was watching over his shoulder.

Mark’s sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors, his eyes darting around in every direction, checking behind him every few seconds. It felt as though he was in the back hallways of a hospital, knowing if he got caught he would get in trouble; if said hospital was a hundred times bigger and getting caught meant getting shot. His hands shook as he tried desperately not to wave them around to ease his stress, making every movement as quiet and careful has possible. All he needed to do was find where Cesar was being kept, and he would be out.

Right?

Mark pressed his back against a wall, peeking around a corner to see more of the same: expansive corridors. He hesitantly began walking down the hallway, swallowing the lump in his throat before he froze; footsteps. Mark frantically glanced from side to side, settling on a door to his left before scrambling towards it, quietly yet quickly opening it before rushing inside. He closed it until only small part of it was open, gazing through the gap to see a couple men in professional attire, both wearing surgeons’ masks over their faces. Mark backed away from the door, trembling before his back hit something.

He swung around, letting out his breath when he saw it was just a few filing cabinets. He walked around them, seeing the room he was in. It seemed to be a storage space, with papers strewn across tables and pieces of medical machinery in the corners. Mark chose well he supposed; if there was any place he’d find info on where Cesar was, it was there. He immediately started sifting through the loose papers, glancing behind his back whenever he felt as though there was a presence behind him. All he found for a little while were random medical records, bills, and one that seemed intriguing, being a report on a vaguely mentioned “incident”, though it had no info Mark needed.

Luckily, or unluckily, Mark found a paper that had a familiar face on the corner: Cesar.

“PATIENT 02: CESAR TORRES

AGE: 18

HEIGHT: 6’2”

PHYSICAL IMPEDIMENTS: N/A

ROOM 234, BIOHAZARD PRECAUTION PROCEDURES REQUIRED FOR ENTRY INTO CELL”

Mark glanced behind him, shoving the paper into his sweatshirt pocket without reading the rest of it before hurrying out of the room, hoping he was in the right area to find the room he needed. A part of him was saddened that Cesar was actually there, but was quickly pushed aside when he realized that all he needed to do was find him, and they’d be able to escape. He hoped.

Mark quickly rushed through the halls, checking every room door to see if it was the number he was looking for. 215, 217, 226; Mark was nearing the room, feeling the shaking in his core increasing with every step. However, he stopped in front of one of the doors, hearing footsteps yet again before pressing the switch next to the sliding door and rushing inside to hide, pressing his back against the wall next to it as he heard the footsteps getting closer. Mark glanced into the dark room, feeling his heart sink and his breath hitch when he saw that there was someone in there with him.

It was a tall, strangely proportioned and thin man, sitting completely still in a chair next to the wall. He had a white and red jumpsuit on, reading “03” on the right side of his chest. He had a long neck, and arms that reached the floor, seemingly filled with holes that revealed his bones. Mark looked up at his face, eyes widening when he saw that he was devoid of a mouth, and his nose was nothing but a pair of nostrils. Two, wide, unblinking eyes stared vacantly at the wall, not once even giving Mark a passing glance.

Mark shook wildly out of fear, wondering what the hell happened to the man before he heard voices outside of the room, being the guards acknowledging the open door. Mark held his breath, seeing the armored guards walk in, their guns trained on the man in the chair. Mark stared at the man, seeing him blinking in strange patterns as soon as the guards looked away from his face.

Blink, hold, blink.

Blink, blink, hold.

Hold, blink.

Mark backed out of the room, seeing the guards swing around towards him before he slammed his hand against the switch, shutting the door and trapping them inside. Mark ran down the hall, ignoring the yelling from the guards as he ran down a branching, wider hallway, leading to room 234; Don’t worry Cesar, Mark was there.

He slammed his gun-holding fist against the switch, running into the room before promptly shutting the door behind him. He pressed his back against the door, breathing heavily before realizing that it wasn’t a normal cell like the one he was in prior. It was a large room, with a circular glass wall in the middle of it, like a large tube. Faint classical music played on the speakers, almost like a lullaby. Mark quietly walked down the hall, finding himself in the main room, looking up to see that the room’s roof was taller than the other rooms, making the place feel giant in comparison.

He looked at the glass, seeing that it was smeared with a black substance, like paint, it reaching towards the floor and ceiling in thin strands of the material. He could barely see inside until he walked around the glass, finally seeing inside of the cell. There was a single, stained bed in the middle, along with random pieces of garbage littered around it. The same black substance stretched across the floor, attaching itself to everything nearby, and Mark could swear he saw it moving slightly. However, Mark didn’t care about the state of the room itself, as when he saw the figure inside, he almost choked; Cesar.

Cesar was sitting in the middle of the cell, wearing a uniform similar to the mouthless man Mark saw, however, with orange patches on his shoulders with Biohazard symbols on them, along with the number 02 on his back. He was facing away from Mark, with him only barely able to see his left side. He seemed to be picking at the floor with his obscured right hand, humming to himself. Mark could barely make himself speak, but swallowed the lump in his throat before taking in a deep breath.

“…Cesar?”

Cesar’s humming stopped.

He sat up straight, slightly turning his head, though not looking at Mark. “…Who’s there?” He asked, his voice hoarse as if he hasn’t used it in a while.

“I…I-It’s…It’s me, Cesar.” Mark stuttered, walking around the glass towards the steel door that led into the cell. Cesar looked at him, his left eye widening when he could see who it was. He stayed in stunned silence before he stood up, turning fully towards Mark before speaking.

“…Mark?”

Mark was too horrified to respond.

The entire right side of Cesar’s face was covered in a semi-shiny black substance, much like the rest of the room, with his right eye being shut. Mark could see that his cheek had been stripped away on that side, showing his teeth and the half-absorbed muscle under his skin. The substance ran down his neck as well, though Mark was fixated on his right arm; his far-too-long right arm, which was completely coated in the fungus. Its hand had sharp claws at the end of each elongated finger, and he could see black veins under the shifting fungus. Mark could barely let out a whimper before Cesar recognized the look of horror on his face.

“W-wait…” Cesar said, raising his left, normal hand towards him before a faint, nervous smile appeared on his face. “I’m…it’s…god…” His smile faded when he fully realized something. “You…why are you here? How did you…find this place?”

“I-I…I saw your…your note.” Mark stated. “Oh my God…what…what happened to you?”

“Listen…you need to get out of here.” Cesar stated. “If you’re here, you’ve already been spotted. If they catch you they’ll—” Cesar cut himself off, looking at the ground before scoffing slightly, trying not to cry. “…besides. I mean…look at me. I’m not worth saving if that’s what you’re here for. Just…tell mama I love her, okay?”

“…You can tell her that yourself.” Mark pressed the switch on the door, it swinging open before Mark stepped into the cell, causing Cesar to stumble backwards.

“W-wait, NO—” Cesar couldn’t get his thought out before Mark grabbed his left arm, staring him in the eye with determination. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting you out of h—”

Mark was startled by loud sirens ringing throughout the facility, causing him to cover his ears. Cesar looked around, seeing red lights flashing before grabbing Mark’s arm. “I’m getting you out of here.” He stated before running out of the cell, Mark following close behind. Cesar slashed the control panel of the door with his mutated claws, causing the door to slide open before they ran into the hallway, Cesar looking both ways before running to the left.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Cesar said, trying to cover up his fear. “You should’ve just left me; lived normally without—”

“And just let you suffer?!” Mark questioned, trying to resist throwing his gun on the ground and letting go of Cesar’s hand to cover his hurting ears. “What kind of fucking friend would I be?!”

Cesar remained silent, running through the halls before freezing in place when he turned a corner, seeing three guards in front of him. Cesar backed up, feeling Mark’s grip on his hand fade as one of them swung a gun up, pointing it at Cesar—

BANG!

The man’s head jerked back, slamming against the ground behind the other two before one of the others felt a bullet pierce through their neck, falling as well. Cesar took the chance to slash at the last Guard, bloody slashes appearing in the torso before Cesar kicked them to the ground. Cesar’s breath was heavy as he turned around, his piercing gaze softening when he saw Mark, who was holding his pistol in front of him with a look of shock in his eyes.

“I-I…I…” Mark muttered, unable to get his thoughts out. “I…I k…killed—”

“No time to dwell on it,” Cesar grabbed Mark’s hand before continuing to run. “We’re almost there.”

After what felt like hundreds of winding hallways, and multiple dead guards, they finally made it outside, Mark immediately looking around before spotting his car by the trail, pointing towards it. “THERE!” He ran towards it, stopping when Cesar didn’t follow. He turned around, seeing that he had a solemn look on his face.

“Save yourself. For me.” Cesar said, backing up a few steps.

“Don’t pull that shit on me—” Mark grasped Cesar’s hand, making Cesar feel his heart sink when he realized that it was his mutated hand. Mark pulled his hand back as he yelled, staring at his hand, which was partially coated by the fungus, wiping it on his pants just to see that his skin was now a pale pink color, as if the top layer was eaten off.

“Please, just leave me here!” Cesar begged as Mark grabbed his normal hand, despite his own hand stinging at the action, leading him to the car. Mark swung open the back door, letting go of Cesar’s hand as he did so.

“Get in!” He asked. However, before Cesar could do so, Mark heard him let out a shocked yell. He turned around, expecting to see that Cesar got shot, however when he saw that there was a dart sticking out of Cesar’s neck, he almost felt worse. Cesar looked at Mark with a solemn, fearful gaze, as if he was saying “It’s too late” without speaking. Cesar’s eyes rolled back as he fell to the ground, narrowly being caught by Mark, who, despite the tears running down his face, pushed him into the car, wiping the fungus that got on his hands onto his pants and sweatshirt. “You’ll be okay, we’ll be—”

Mark’s empty reassurances were interrupted when he felt something stab his neck, only realizing what it was when he ripped It out and looked at it; a tranquilizer dart. “…Oh…god no.” Mark scrambled towards the front door, grabbing the handle and ripping it open, despite feeling dizzier with every passing second. He dropped his gun, unable to crawl into the car before he slammed against the dirt, trying to resist the urge to fall asleep. Alas, he wasn’t strong enough, and as he saw feet enter his tunnel vision, he realized he failed.

…

Mark could smell cleaning alcohol and felt as if he was sleeping on an air mattress. He opened his eyes, seeing that he was in a mostly dark room, dimly lit by an orange light on the ceiling. It looked almost like a dorm room, with a desk, a very small closet, and a mirror on the wall. The walls were a pale grey, seemingly made from concrete. Mark felt weak, not wanting to get up, though something else felt different.

He looked down at his arm, which was resting next to his head, seeing he wasn’t wearing his hoodie anymore. When he looked down he saw he was fitted in a…white and red jumpsuit, just like Cesar and the man in the cell. However, his uniform had 04 on it, though he wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Either way, it felt like thick flannel, though not necessarily comfortable like it. He pat his chest, realizing in disappointment that his cross necklace was gone as well.

He stood up, realizing he was wearing non-slip socks as well, the texture of which making him want to rip them off, which he did. He threw them onto the desk, and despite the floor being ungodly cold, he preferred it over the itchy footwear. He walked to the sliding door, looking for a switch or handle to get out, but being unsuccessful. He soon realized that it wasn’t a dorm; it was a prison cell, which explained the fact that there was a toilet in the corner.

Mark felt tension build in his chest as he shook his hands, pacing in his room as he wondered what the hell happened while he was out. Was Cesar alright? Where was he? Why did he have a uniform on now? How was his family going to react to this? Would they know…? Would they…ever find out…?

Mark’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw light pour into the room from the door behind him. He turned around slowly, seeing a figure in the doorway, their face obscured by darkness until Mark’s eyes adjusted. It was a woman, around his height, with black, curly hair, wearing a white lab coat over a blue shirt of some kind. She had a respirator mask over her face, completely concealing her appearance. She had her gloved hands crossed in front of her, staring at Mark through the dark glass of her mask.

“W…Who…who are you?” Mark hesitantly asked.

“I must ask of you the same thing.” She responded.

“…U-Uh…M…Mark?”

“…Mark.”

“Yes.”

“Well, my name is Dr. Amanda Harlow, and you shall refer to me as such.” Amanda stated, though she didn’t follow it with a friendly handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“…Where am I?” Mark asked.

“I’m afraid…that’s classified information for the time being.” Amanda said. “Though allow me to reassure you; everything will be answered in due time.”

“W…What happened to Cesar?” Mark questioned. “What did you do to him?”

“…02 is safe, currently in our custody. No harm has been done to him.”

“No, what the FUCK did you do to him?!” Mark questioned with a grimace. “You’re the one that made him like that, aren’t you?!”

Amanda remained silent and still, all before she let out a breath. “Mark. Like I have already said, everything will be explained sooner or later. Why don’t you walk with me? I’ll tell you everything you need to know for the time being.”

She stood to the side of the doorway, gesturing towards the hallway before Mark hesitantly walked out of the room. Amanda followed Mark, her hand planted on his shoulder as she led him down the hallway. “I understand you must be…confused on what exactly happened yesterday—”

“Yesterday?” Mark asked.

Amanda paused before continuing. “…However, I can assure you, no harm will be done to you or 02. Though I must ask why you are here, and what exactly spurred you to try and break it out?”

“…It? 02? His name is Cesar.” Mark sternly stated.

“…Just answer the questions, Mark.”

“I…He left a note, I…he’s been missing for a while, I couldn’t just…leave him.” Mark answered, feeling Amanda’s nails digging into his shoulder even through the glove.

“How brave of you.”

“What?”

“You are…friends with him?” Amanda asked.

“Y-Yes.”

“I see.” Amanda remained silent for a few moments, Mark seeing her other arm shift behind her from his peripheral vision. “Now…trespassing is a serious crime, though I suppose you are quite young…don’t know your way around this world just yet.”

“I…huh?” Mark felt himself beginning to sweat.

“Don’t stress yourself, Mark. You will be in good hands here.” Amanda stated, pausing as she gripped the syringe in her hand tighter. “Now…you may feel a slight sting.”

“Wh—” Mark felt a needle being stabbed into his neck, slowly falling to the ground as Amanda injected something into him, all before he felt a too familiar sense of heaviness rush over his body. He fell onto his back, looking up at Amanda, whose emotionless mask was staring back at him, all before he once again fell unconscious.

“…Appears to have no…physical ailments. However, I’ll have to find his governmental records to be sure.” Mark heard the voice of Amanda faintly, his eyelids still heavy and his mind foggy. He was laying on something, restrained, though he wasn’t sure where. “Mark Heathcliff appears to be his full name. He’s young, healthy...I believe you will be happy with a…canvas such as this.”

“Do you think he will be better than 01?” An unrecognizable, coarse voice stated, sounding further away, though Mark’s eyes were still shut, unable to see who it was.

“Potentially. I suppose that depends on what you do.”

Mark’s eyes slowly opened, dilating when he saw there was a bright light beaming on his face. He couldn’t move his legs or arms, feeling binds around his wrists and ankles. He lifted his head slightly, feeling his head throb as soon as he did so.

“Oh…hello Mark.” Amanda came into view, staring at him as she spoke in a calm tone.

“Wh...Where am—”

“Don’t panic.” Amanda stated. “It’ll make things harder for everyone involved.”

“Are…are you going to…kill me?” Mark could feel himself fighting back tears.

“Absolutely not.” The unrecognizable voice from the corner of the room spoke up, a figure standing up, concealed by the shadows. “If anything, you’ll come out of here…better than you were.” Mark could see that the person was incredibly tall, limping out into the light with a cane in their hand. However, when Mark looked up, finally processing what they looked like, he froze.

They wore a dark grey suit over a white dress shirt, along with a black tie. However, everything aside from their formal attire was a complete nightmare. Their long, wavy hair was completely grey, and his skin was a greenish yellow color, like a corpse. Their right foot was covered in bandages, though it looked more like the talon of a bird, its claws scraping against the floor as they walked towards Amanda and Mark. Their face was the most horrifying of all; elongated, with them having a “snout”, and their teeth were visible through a permanent wide smile. Their molars and front teeth were separated from one another like a horse’s skull. Their wide, dilated eyes stared down at Mark, and despite emoting being hard for them, Mark could sense…joy emitting from them.

“What the fuck, what the FUCK!” Mark tried to push himself from the monster growing closer, only to have Amanda push him back down.

“Don’t be afraid,” The figure said, their teeth chattering with every word. “I understand; perfection…is hard to handle for most.”

Mark wanted to say so many things, but nothing came out of his tight throat.

“Oh, how rude of me, my name is Gabriel.” Gabriel stated. “I’d recommend getting used to hearing it; I’ll be seeing you often while you’re here.”

“I-I…I…” Mark stammered, shaking his head.

“I saw the necklace on you when you came in.” Gabriel stated. “…A sign from the heavens. God has sent me one of his own angels…I just need to uncover it.”

“Shall I start?” Amanda asked.

Gabriel glared at her, growling slightly. “No. You failed with 02, why would I let you take the chance to ruin a perfectly good subject again?” They stated with a tinge of aggression. “I shall take care of this myself. I have ideas for what exactly to do with the blessing I have been given.”

Gabriel looked back at Mark, seeing the horrified, wide stare they were being given before they let out a wheezy chuckle, coughing after doing so. “Oh, don’t fear, after the procedures are done, I imagine you’ll be thanking me.” Gabriel said, grabbing a syringe from the table. “After all; the pain is only the weak human form shedding…allowing you to finally reach the unreachable. Trust me…I’ve experienced it myself.”

“Do you wish to put him under?” Amanda asked.

“…I suppose, yes.” Gabriel said. “We can work on pain tolerance at a later date.”

Mark began to scream, thrashing around as tears streamed down his face. “PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP ME!” He begged, seeing Amanda place a mask over his face. He struggled the hardest he could against the third anesthetic he was given, believing he’d surely die if he fell asleep again. These people were going to kill him; all he wanted was to go back home. He wanted his mother and father, and wanted to see his sister again and hug her. He just wanted to go home, back to the way things were. “GOD HELP ME, SAVE…save…m…me…”

Despite his efforts, Mark fell asleep.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

Kills me that Miri thinks the guy who shot her bio dad is cool because he shoots guns good

[enigma-absolute]

…

[bassistscottpilgrim]

honest answer, Scott.. do you have feelings/have you had feelings for Wallace -🤠 (new anon sign off, yayyyy)

nope! never! im straight!!

[samglyph]

So happy that part 32 is continuing to prove my belief that John is a shit liar.

[girlbob-boypants]

It's weird to me when people defend the Deimos story cause it's about the class of people who organized your horrible fate as a child soldier being a family of people who actively abuse and torture each other and it's all portrayed as just mild misunderstandings that you can fix by doing their chores.

Meanwhile discussions of the heart and the infested are just nowhere to be fucking seen, making it terrible for worldbuilding and also just terribly unpleasant to experience if you have an ounce of critical thinking about what's actually happening

At least it's an infinitely better farm than the other two

[itwoodbeprefect]

inspired by my own 9-1-1 / bad buddy post, here's a bad buddy / starsky & hutch sequel about cutting ties with your past, polluting the ocean, throwing small shiny rectangular objects, etc. 🌊

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

One of the biggest reasons I try to recruit all the characters in Three Houses isn’t just because I don’t want to kill them, but because if I do, I still have to go back to the monastery afterward. I still have to pass by their dorm rooms full of their belongings and know that’s where they spent their alone time and where they slept. I still have to pass by the spots they frequented the most. It’s not just the sad dialogue of characters reacting to the deaths, but passing by the spots I vividly remembered them hanging out at.

I realized this most in my first playthrough when I didn’t have the chance to recruit everyone and I accidently killed Raphael at Gronder. I didn’t have the enemy attack range turned on so I didn’t realize he was in range of attacking.

During an exploration, I was looking for Ignatz who was, unfortunately, in his dorm room... and I walked into the wrong room and into Raphael’s after he was killed and man that fuckin’ sucked! Feels bad but like, multiplied with big numbers, u kno??? ???

YES, IT’S A VIDEO GAME. YES, I HAVE HUMAN BEING FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

[bmpmp3]

SOME ocs