I hate 2 say it but being a part of a “weird” subculture does not meaningfully inoculate you against a conservative moralizing impulse. You gotta unlearn that. Saying “cringe is dead” is not enough, you have to actually be okay with things that discomfort, perplex and/or disgust you.
if a bite from someone you like got infected is that like zombie baby trapping? like, you bit me, you infected me, you're stuck with me now, can't get rid of me now. or maybe its closer to omegaverse LMAOOOOO
I'm down horrendous for this fucker oh my goodness gracious...
Request: Could you do a invincible variant or Mohawk Mark x reader who has the powers of super girl/man. They are main marks childhood best friend who didn’t have the courage to confess to him before he started dating other girls. The other versions of them are most likely dead so Angstrom promised the Marks a second chance but this reader isn’t as fragile and can fight back.
Tags: sfw, a little bit of angst, unrequited love, love triangle, kryptonian! reader
Summary: while you are protecting the world during the Invincible War you come across one of the Invincible Variants
wc: 2.6k words
A.N. I'm so sorry if this sucks, I'm not into DC (for now) and I don't know a lot about superman/supergirl lore… but I tried! Also I wrote this with no specific variant in mind, I tried to keep it more generic as possible. Enjoy!
“They’re everywhere…” Eve’s worried voice was barely audible over the screams of terror and destruction echoing beneath you.
Mark, your childhood friend, flew between you and her, his eyes fixed on the burning ruins of the city below. “They’re attacking every part of the planet. I don’t know how long the others will be able to hold them off.”
“Given your Viltrumite qualities,” you added quietly, eyes following the chaos below, “I doubt they’ll stand much of a chance… especially if they act on their own.”
Watching so many lives being wiped out filled you with a deep, suffocating ache. It reminded you too much of your home planet, of everything you’d lost once before.
Because of your powers, you were one of the very few capable of standing toe-to-toe with a Viltrumite like Mark. The two of you often trained together, challenging each other to push past your limits, testing just how far you could go.
It had become clear over time, however, that you were the one who managed to unlock the full potential of your abilities.
Lately, the GDA had taken full control of the situation, putting all their faith in Mark. He was the only one who might have a chance to stop the Empire, or at least delay it. But that faith came with fear: they needed to keep him close, to monitor him constantly, just in case he ever turned against them.
Your time together had been cut in half since then, and now that he was with Eve… spending time alone with him had become even more complicated.
The faint cry of a child pulled you back to the present. You knew neither Mark nor Eve had heard it, but you couldn’t ignore it. You broke formation, diving toward the remains of a collapsed building. They stopped mid-air, probably thinking you had spotted one of the eighteen variants currently tearing the planet apart.
The sound led you to a small boy trapped under rubble. Somehow, he was unharmed, though his sobs made your blood boil. The more debris you moved aside, the stronger your anger grew: not at him, but at whoever had caused this devastation.
You stretched out a hand, and the child immediately leapt into your arms, trembling. You barely had time to ask if he was okay before a shimmering pink bubble enveloped him, pulling him gently out of your grasp.
“I think it’s better if we split up,” Mark suggested, landing behind you alongside the red-haired girl who had conjured the forcefield. “We need to cover more ground and find the version of me that’s behind this. If we all stay together, it’ll just slow us down.”
“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you asked, unable to hide the concern in your voice. The idea of letting him wander off into a battlefield like this made your stomach twist, especially after his last encounters with other Viltrumites, his father included. “We don’t know how strong they are. You might need backup.”
“I’ll go with him,” Eve interrupted softly as she tended to the boy inside her energy bubble. “I can help with civilians along the way, get them to safety.”
You said nothing. You just looked at them, at the way they moved so easily in sync and how she touched his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t deny the sting of jealousy that burned in your chest.
You’d had your chances, but you never said anything. You never told Mark how you felt, never even tried to show him. How could he possibly have known?
“You’re probably the only one who can beat me,” Mark said with a half-smile, resting a hand on your shoulder as if he could sense your unease. “You shouldn’t have much trouble if you run into one of the variants. Just… try not to get too caught up with the civilians, alright?”
“You know I can’t just ignore them,” you replied, your voice tight. The thought of leaving people behind to die clawed at your chest. “They need me.”
“If we manage to stop all of them and find whoever started this, that’s how we’ll really save them,” Eve interjected, her tone pragmatic but not unkind. And she wasn’t wrong, logic was on her side.
“Fine.” You turned away, taking to the air again, the wind catching the edges of your cape as it billowed behind you. “Just don’t underestimate who you’re up against, and-”
Mark shot upward before you could finish, Eve right behind him. “You’re the one underestimating me now,” he called out with a teasing smirk before vanishing into the distance, heading east.
Even flying at high speed, your enhanced vision allowed you to see every single civilian below, all of them in danger.
How could you possibly ignore them?
You descended swiftly, throwing yourself into rescue after rescue, pulling people out of collapsed buildings, moving them to safer areas, treating their wounds as best as you could and coordinating with the scattered heroes still standing to protect those who couldn’t defend themselves.
Once you’d cleared the last area, you soared upward again, scanning for more survivors. That’s when an explosion caught your attention, a massive shockwave rippling through the skyline. You turned toward it instantly, reaching the collapsing tower in seconds. People were still trapped inside.
You braced your arms and caught the massive building before it could crash down, the weight straining even your strength. Slowly and carefully you lowered it to the ground, creating a path for the trapped civilians to escape.
Then… “Help!” A voice. Several cries echoed from above, drawing your eyes upward. You shot into the air without hesitation, heart pounding, and that’s when you saw him.
His suit was different but his face… his face was the same. Mark’s face. Except twisted into something cruel, his expression filled with the kind of rage you’d only ever seen in his father.
The variant hovered only a few feet from the terrified civilians waiting… or maybe just enjoying their fear.
“Leave them alone!” you shouted, launching yourself forward. Your hands slammed against his shoulders, grabbing him before he could react, and together you shot upward, away from the civilians.
The variant slipped free of your grip with unnerving ease, landing a punch square in your gut that forced you backward.
“Pathetic superhero!” he ground out through clenched teeth, obviously irritated that you’d interrupted him, yet the moment he got a better look his whole expression shifted: surprise, as if recognition warred with disbelief at finally finding you.
You stopped too, studying him more closely: he was an exact copy of Mark, so convincing that for a heartbeat you could have sworn your real Mark hovered in front of you. Of course it wasn’t him, though even the thought made heat rise to your cheeks.
“You started all this, I can’t let you get away,” you said, pointing at him and bracing for the next attack, your fists tightening as you closed the distance and landed several blows to his face.
The harder you hit, the more confused you felt by your own restraint: with your best friend you’d always trained together, testing limits and trading blows as practice, never once imagining you’d kill him, and even the idea of ending the life of a copy of Mark sickened you.
It was still him, in a way.
The variant exploited that hesitation, seizing control of the fight. He grabbed your cape and spun you around him until the centrifugal force flung you into the sky, only for you to stop yourself just in time from slamming into a still-standing skyscraper.
When he spoke your name you noticed, unnervingly, how like Mark his voice sounded: the cadence, the way he watched you and he began, almost pleading, “Listen to me, I only ask this…”
Reluctantly, you paused and let him finish, you hovered thirty meters apart, the city’s smoke and ruin framing the space between you.
“First... where did you get these powers?” he asked, as if it were a private detail he had a right to pry into.
The question felt invasive, you wouldn’t lower yourself to answer something so personal to an enemy.
“That’s none of your business,” you said, keeping your tone neutral and distant, forcing your face to mask the strange storm of emotions that rose at confronting an uncanny copy of the person who’d shared your childhood.
He ignored your rebuke as if he hadn’t heard it and continued instead, “I’m here for one reason.”
“And that is?” you cut in, you wanted straight answers, no games.
His face clouded for a moment as memories of the version of you he knew in his world flickered across his expression, hesitation that seeded doubt in your chest. “I want you to come with me.”
“What?” you shot back, eyes wide at the audacity of the proposal, instantly suspicious of why you were even listening. You kept telling yourself stalling him might buy you some advantage. “Where?”
“To my dimension,” he said finally, the gravity in his voice making your teeth ache, and you could read the pain in his eyes, the same vulnerable, familiar hurt you’d seen in Mark a hundred times. “I miss you, I don’t know what to do since you…” he pressed a hand to his forehead, fingers stiff with emotion.
“To your dimension?” you repeated, hoping you’d misheard despite the infallibility of your hearing, he sounded earnest. “No. I won’t, and I don’t want to.” The words tumbled out uncertain, the whole proposition was too tangled, too loaded even for you to sort through calmly.
He blinked, then said, “I’m serious, I came here for you alone… I’m doing all of this to get you back.” He spread his arms, the destruction and death around you both an ugly, undeniable punctuation to his confession. “I’m not asking you to forgive me for what I’ve done here, but-”
“How can I go with you if I haven’t forgiven you?” you snapped, frowning and digging your fingers into your palms until the skin bit back. “I can’t follow someone who caused this, and I don’t want to.”
The copy of Mark’s face hardened at your refusal. “I didn’t come here to waste time.” In an instant he closed the space between you, his face inches from yours. “This isn’t a request.” He laid a hand on your arm, pressing a firm hold that hurt without breaking skin.
“Don’t touch me.” You jerked away, ripping his hand off your arm. He watched the motion, unmoved and almost unreadable, and said nothing more. “You can’t tell me what to do… this is my home.”
He looked away and exhaled, and when he turned back there was no pretense left: he lunged, all the force he could muster, and you raised your arms to shield yourself as his blows grew heavier, relentless.
“Then I’ll be forced to take you with me!” he snarled, hammering your forearms again and again to test how long you’d keep defending without answering. “Why don’t you show me again those powers of yours? The version of you I knew didn’t have them, I’m curious.”
“You’re curious?” you asked, half-mocking, though he didn’t care for your tease. “Fine. If you want to see.” You trapped his wrists between your hands, his momentum snapped forward as your hold redirected the force, and you drove a headbutt into him, disorienting him.
He immediately clapped his hands to his forehead, grinding his teeth with pain and irritation, then let out a begrudging, almost satisfied, “You’re strong… didn’t expect this from you... I like it.”
Suddenly your eyes flared red and the variant watched in baffled alarm at what unfolded next. When the diagonal arc of your heat vision sliced through part of his costume and hotness seared his chest, he screamed, clutching at the burning fabric.
“You still like it?” you said floating closer, your cape snapping behind you, your words heavy with something that wasn’t quite victory and wasn’t quite pity.
He should have seen you only as an enemy after all he’d done, yet he refused to let go of what he felt: his feelings wouldn’t change even if you killed him… though, perhaps, he secretly hoped you never would.
“Of course,” he replied once the pain had dulled to something he could hide behind a smirk. “The version of you I knew was softer, weaker… you’re different, but you’re still them.”
In the next instant he was behind you, too fast to follow, and his fist slammed into your shoulder, sending you crashing downward through the debris.
“You’ve got their eyes,” he said, landing beside your body sprawled across the rubble, voice low and deliberate. “And I can tell, just by the way you look at me, that you feel the same way about me as they did.”
“I don’t feel anything for you.” You pushed yourself up immediately, brushing dust from your face and wiping the blood trickling down your temple.
Strangely, he didn’t stop you. He just stood there, watching. He huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Then I’ll just have to change your mind.”
Another voice, the same voice but coming from above, cut through the tension like a blade. “Hey, watch out!”
Before the variant could react, a punch landed square in his jaw, sending him skidding across the asphalt for several meters. You turned, heart skipping, recognizing that voice instantly.
Your Mark had finally arrived.
He hovered there, chest heaving, eyes narrowing at the other version of himself. Eve was nowhere in sight, she must still have been dealing with the civilians. And then, as if the chaos hadn’t been enough, several portals tore open in the sky, unleashing a swarm of ReAnimen that immediately locked onto the variant as their target.
“You okay? You’re bleeding,” Mark said, landing next to you, concern etched across his face as his eyes darted over your wounds.
You nodded, forcing a small smile to reassure him. Kryptonians were tougher than that, the pain had already started to fade. “I’ve been through worse.”
He frowned, glancing toward the variant struggling against the onslaught of mechanical soldiers. “Strange you haven’t finished him yet. He give you trouble?”
You gave a small shrug. “Something like that.”
You didn’t bother explaining the real reason, that you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to truly hurt him even knowing what he’d done. Instead, you just watched silently as the variant fought back, every punch and blast chipping away at the façade of power he’d tried to project.
For a fleeting second the urge to help him, to stop this from ending with his death, rose unbidden in your chest, but then Mark’s voice pulled you back.
“Eve needs backup. The GDA will handle things here.” He took off before you could respond, his voice carried by the wind. “If it weren’t for you, we never would’ve found this variant or stopped him before he caused more damage.”
You hesitated for half a heartbeat, eyes lingering on the variant still thrashing beneath the swarm of ReAnimen. “Yeah…” Then you followed, launching yourself skyward, leaving both the battle and the confusion it brought behind you.
Was it actually wrong to feel bad for that variant in the end? Maybe you should've followed him, give him a chance... maybe he could've changed for the better. Or maybe you were just delusional and wanted Mark, no matter what Mark, to actually see you as something more than just a friend.
I loveeee getting myself anxious over a party and then when I show up i immediately find fine shyt and spend the whole night attached to their hip and get very painful bite mark and then the next day end up so hungover that i can't use my phone until like 3am
This is my first time making a comic, it's very short, I apologize for that, I'm just not used to doing something like this.
I like to think that Viltrumite Mark was taken as a child from the Grayson home on Viltrum, so he remembers almost nothing from his childhood on Earth, but feels nostalgia when looking at his family's old home. And Omni Mark misses the past and looks more with attachment and longing at his old home. But these are just my thoughts. This is not canon just in case
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