Mark Heathcliff - Blog Posts

i forgor i was going to make a huge pack with pics like this with the rest of them, but i made it just with mark

I can definitely say that there will be a 2nd part of this big fanart pack, because I have some ideas and some unfinished stuff :D

mork

𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

"…𝔐𝔞𝔶𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡… 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱, ℭ𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔅𝔲𝔟𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰?"

*FWOOSH~*

As the clouds drifted across the sky, casting a few shadows across the calming and eerie landscape of Mandela County, Clean Bubbles found herself on her customary afternoon walk in a park, the dirt crunching softly from her feet. The air was heavy with uncertainty, and each step echoed her inner turmoil.

She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she might never find her way back home, that she was doomed to wander this twisted realm for eternity. The thought gnawed at her, threatening to extinguish the last flicker of hope that remained.

Lost in her thoughts, she absentmindedly fiddled with the remnants of her broken headphones, her fingers tracing the spot where one of her antennas had once been. It had been her lifeline, her connection to the world outside this nightmarish dimension. But now it lay shattered, rendering her powerless and vulnerable.

Should she give up? 

Was it worth clinging to hope when all signs pointed to despair? 

Should she have fought Lucifer in the first place before any of this could’ve happened? 

Should she stop living with two different lives and just choose? 

The questions swirled in her mind, a relentless storm threatening to consume her.

Maybe… she should’ve never existed in this world in the first place-

“O-Oh--Excuse me, ma’am!”

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him - Mark Heathcliff, one of the main characters of the analog horror show that had trapped her here. Panic surged through her veins as she realized he had noticed her.

She took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest, as Mark approached cautiously. His presence was comforting to her because he was human, yet it was unsettling because she knew he was one of the main characters who would die in the future.

"Hey there," he said, his voice gentle yet filled with an undercurrent of curiosity. "I've seen you around. W-Well, not a lot, actually. I don’t see your appearance out here every day. I-I guess you’re introverted, but I can’t blame you… But you know what I mean.” He cleared his throat. “Mind if I walk with you?"

Clean Bubbles hesitated, torn between the instinct to flee and the desire for companionship. Her heart desired a moment of having a sense of friendship and camaraderie. But her mind screamed that messing with the timeline would screw everything up in the future. "Y-You... trust me? E-Even in a w-world with these... Alternates?" She struggled to find a voice to speak.

Mark offered her a small, understanding smile, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of empathy. "I don't know if I trust anyone here, to be honest," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation. "But... there's something about you. Something different." 

He paused as if searching for the right words to convey his thoughts. "In this place, where everything feels so... twisted and wrong, you seem... genuine." He kindly smiled at her, raising a sheepish hand before waving it. 

The male wearing the white sweater glanced around warily as if expecting something to jump out from the shadows at any moment. "And... I guess I could use a friend. Even if it's just for a little while."

Clean Bubbles felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through her, mingling with the fear and uncertainty that had become her constant companions.

Could she dare to trust him, knowing the fate that awaited him in this twisted realm? 

“O-Oh…” She softly sighed. “I-I kindly appreciate your c-company. But I’ve got to go—” She trailed off, awkwardly shuffling away as she hugged herself. There’s no one else she could trust or even try gaining it. This particular world is an EXTREMELY UNSETTLING place. Besides, her name is just… weird! Who the hell names their child ‘Clean Bubbles’!? It’s absurd!

“H-Hey! Wait up!” Mark huffed, trying to catch up with her as she continued to walk away. “Please don’t go. I-I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable—but at least let me get to know you since I’ve never seen normal people instead of those Alternates.” He tiredly chuckled, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere between him and her.

Clean Bubbles stopped in her tracks, and her internal struggle was evident in how she shifted nervously on her feet. She glanced back at Mark, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing for connection.

"Normal... people?" she repeated softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The concept seemed foreign to her in this reality, where there were powerful, demonic creatures that could take the shape of humans and kill off people by driving them M.A.D. Nothing was as it appeared. But the teen’s earnest expression and genuine attempt to reach out to her touched something deep within her.

She took a hesitant step forward, her heart pounding in her chest. "I-I guess... we could walk together for a little while," she finally relented, her voice trembling slightly as she squeezed her left wrist. "But... but I can't promise anything. I-I'm not even sure if I can trust myself in this place anymore."

Mark's face lit up with a grateful smile as he stepped beside her. "That's okay," he reassured her, his tone gentle and understanding. "We're all just trying to survive here, right? And... maybe we can help each other along the way."

The blue-haired girl nodded silently, her mind still wrestling with doubts and fears. But for now, amid this nightmarish landscape, she allowed herself to find solace in the fleeting companionship of another lost soul.

Despite the rational voice of caution that whispered in the back of her mind, she found herself nodding slowly. "O-Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I could use a friend too... even if it's just for a little while."

The two started walking down the dirt path. “So, can I know your name?” The male awkwardly smiled. “I’m Mark. Mark Heathcliff. And yours?” 

The girl with her headphones seemed to stiffen up momentarily, realizing that she had to reveal her awkward name (but it’s also for the author’s personal safety reasons—no data was shared). “U-Um… I-I…” She gulped, trying to find a name or lie to Mark. “I-I don’t really remember a lot…” She lied with a slight sheepish smile. “B-But all I can remember was my video game character’s username, Clean Bubbles. S-So I’d rather be addressed as that…” She squeaked.

The male nodded understandingly, a sympathetic expression crossing his features. "Clean Bubbles, huh?" he repeated softly, committing the name to memory. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Clean Bubbles. And hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or just... walk with, I'll be here."

The female offered him a small, grateful smile, her heart warming at his genuine kindness. "T-Thank you, Mark," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of the wind. "I... I appreciate it..."

As they continued their walk together, the shadows of Mandela County seemed to retreat ever so slightly, chased away by the fragile light of the sun cracking between the clouds. “So… Do you have any hobbies? What’s your life like?” The male wearing the white sweater raised an eyebrow.

“For your first question… there’s not a lot for me to do outdoors. But I usually spend most of my time writing. It’s usually imagining my own fantasy worlds created and writing stories. As for your second question… It's a bit lonely. I live alone.” She sighed, feeling guilty for telling half-truths and lies. “W-What do you do?”

Mark listened attentively as Clean Bubbles shared her hobbies and a glimpse into her life, nodding empathetically. "Writing sounds fascinating," he remarked with genuine interest. "Creating your own worlds and stories... it must be an incredible escape from all of this."

He hesitated momentarily before answering her second question, his expression growing solemn. "Well, I was a student back then. I had friends and family. It was a normal life, I guess, just drawing and doodling. But ever since these… Alternates have come by. I've been trying to keep myself in check with my sanity and pray to God. I have a younger sister who lives in another state. She’s only three years old."  

“You’re in religion? Christianity?” Bubbles quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I am.” He nodded. “Do you have siblings too?”

Clean Bubbles hesitated momentarily, her mind racing as she tried to piece together a convincing backstory. "Yeah. I did," she replied cautiously, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "H-Her name is Jade. She’s older than me, 17 years old. She moved elsewhere to start college, and I decided to stay here, feeling a bit… humble." It was a half-truth, a carefully constructed lie to mask the absence of her sibling and her origin of getting to Mandela County, Wisconsin.

Mark nodded understandingly, not pressing further into Clean Bubbles' personal life. He could sense the discomfort in her voice, and he respected her boundaries.

"It sounds like you and Jade are close," he commented gently, changing the subject to something lighter. "And hey, humble is good. It's not easy navigating through life, especially in a place like this."

Clean Bubbles offered him a small, grateful smile, appreciating his tactfulness and understanding. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "We... we are really close." She hesitated, a pang of longing tugging at her heart as she thought of the sister she had fabricated. "I-I miss her sometimes."

Mark placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, offering her a supportive squeeze. "I'm sure she misses you too," he said gently. "But hey, do you want to go and get something to eat? It’s best if we take this conversation inside.” 

Mark's suggestion sounded like a lifeline to Clean Bubbles as they walked. The idea of getting something to eat, of sharing a meal in a place that felt somewhat safe, sparked a glimmer of hope within her. But it offered a piece of normalcy rather than having to focus on killing Alternates and keeping humanity safe from the devil himself.

"Y-Yeah, that sounds... nice," she replied softly, her voice tinged with gratitude. "B-But where would we exactly eat? S-Sorry, I-I don’t come out of my shell a lot…” She gulped.

“It’s alright. I can show you.” Mark nodded in agreement, his slight smile warm and reassuring. "Great," he said, his tone awkward but genuine enthusiasm. “There's a little diner and café not too far from here. It's nothing fancy, but they serve decent food. Plus, we could get to know each other more since it’s a bit safe inside. Since these Alternates have started disappearing slowly, I think we could still go. We just needed to stay cautious."

════════.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.════════

Together, they made their way to a small café nestled at the edge of the park, its warm lights inviting them in from the chilly air outside. Clean Bubbles couldn't remember the last time she had shared a meal with someone, the simple act feeling strangely intimate in this unfamiliar world.

As they settled into a cozy corner booth, Mark ordered a couple of sandwiches and hot drinks for them both. His easy chatter helped dispel some lingering tension in the air. Clean Bubbles found herself relaxing in his presence, the weight of loneliness lifting ever so slightly from her shoulders.

“So, how old are you?” Mark hummed, eating his sandwich. 

“I-I’m 15 years old.” She nodded softly, nibbling on some potato chips.

“Oh! Cool. That just reminds me, I’m also 17 years old, the same age as your sister.”

“Cool… Cool. What grade are you in?”

“I’m in college as well. Freshman. You?”

“I’m a sophomore in high school, in 10th grade.” She softly chuckled. “Do you have any friends?”

“Well, I have a Hispanic friend named Cesar Torres. He’s my best friend.”

“Ah, I do have many friends. I don’t remember some of their familiar faces sometimes… But I’m just there. I listen to them venting their problems… They’re mostly relationship-related…”

“Oh…” Mark’s face seemed to cast a shadow of uncertainty. “I-I guess you can say that I’m a bit in a similar situation…”

“Oh! S-Sorry, I-I won’t press further into it.” 

“N-no! It’s alright.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they enjoyed their meal, weaving through light and heavy topics. 

For a brief moment, she felt surprised and allowed herself to forget about the horrors that lurked beyond the windows, to set aside the uncertainty of her fate. And in that fleeting moment of respite, she found solace in the simple companionship of a fellow person in a world of horror and religion-related.

As the hours slipped away, she realized with a start that she didn't feel so alone for the first time since she had arrived in Mandela County (and stayed for 15 years). She felt a glimmer of hope flickering to life, illuminating the darkness threatening to consume her whole.

But yet, she knew the consequences. When you get attached to someone while struggling to hide a second life in a world with twisted creatures, relationships and attachment are used against you.

After their meal was finished, Clean Bubbles and Mark stepped out of the café, the warmth of their brief respite still lingering in the air around them. But as they walked back into the park, reality came crashing down again, reminding them of the dangers lurking in the shadows.

Clean Bubbles couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at her insides. She knew she was leading Mark into danger by letting herself get close to him in the world of secrets, horror, copycats, and deception. 

Yet, despite her rational mind screaming at her to push him away, she could not sever the fragile connection they had forged. Even though they met for a day, she knew that connections were crucial, and that's how Alternates use it against humans.

Mark glanced at Clean Bubbles as they walked, a concerned furrow marring his brow. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry. "You seem... distant."

Clean Bubbles forced a nervous smile, trying to mask the turmoil churning within her. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice sounding hollow even to her ears. "Just... just thinking about... stuff."

Mark didn't seem convinced by her feeble attempt at reassurance, but he didn't press further. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "Well, whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone," he said softly. "I'm here for you, Clean Bubbles. We'll get through this together, okay?"

Clean Bubbles felt her heartache at his words, torn between the comfort of his presence and the weight of her guilt. "T-Thank you, Mark," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I appreciate it more than you know."

They walked silently for a while, the only sound of the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet. But despite the peace of the moment, Clean Bubbles couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach.

She knew that their newfound friendship was built on shaky ground, that the truth she was hiding threatened to tear them apart. But for now, in this fleeting moment of respite, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of companionship, of finding solace amid chaos.

As they reached the edge of the park, the sky getting darker as the clouds dispersed, Clean Bubbles turned to Mark with a heavy heart. "I... I should probably go," she said softly, her voice tinged with regret. "I-I have... things to take care of."

Mark nodded understandingly, though a hint of disappointment flashed across his features. "Yeah, of course," he said, his tone tinged with reluctance. "But... but hey, we'll see each other again, right? Tomorrow, maybe?"

Clean Bubbles hesitated, her heart aching at the thought of what tomorrow might bring. But she forced a smile, determined not to let her fears overshadow the fragile hope they had found in each other's company. "Y-Yeah," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I'll see you tomorrow, Mark. Take care of yourself."

With a final wave, she turned and walked away, the weight of her secrets heavy on her shoulders. But as she disappeared into the gathering darkness, she allowed herself to hope, if only for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, they would find a way to survive this nightmare together.

Upon arriving at her home, she looked at her headphones and her spear-staff weapon near her kitchen door. She chuckled softly as she looked at her powerful she used for killing the Alternates with pure magic before speaking to herself,

"…Maybe there's hope in this world when you're around… right, Clean Bubbles?"