Villain Creation System - Chapter 14
Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants
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Author's Note: Full disclosure, I've forgotten a lot of things about this arc and this Mark. It wasn't until I checked my old notes did I realize that Reader was supposed to stay in the hospital for a lot longer. 😅🫠
Cecil Stedman stood on the mezzanine of the Teen Team's training hall. He watched the young heroes surround their "honorary" member.
Markus Christian Grayson. [1]
Only son of the legendary Omni-Man, who went missing ten years ago. Strong, fast and durable. Although he was around the same age as the others, he refused to be part of their group. Officially, at least.
"One of these days, I swear!" Rex Splode tossed two more explosives at his partner, who dodged them effortlessly.
"Dammit!" Rex pulled his hair in frustration. "Why do I have to train with you? You got superspeed!"
A stone-faced Mark watched him emote on the ground. He then glanced up, looking directly at Cecil with an expression asking "Can I go now?"
Not much of a talker, unless he was complaining to his boss.
Robot walked towards Rex. "Calm down, we just started."
"Stop whining," one of the Kates scolded him, "Mark hasn't even begun fighting back."
"Exactly, he hasn't even fought back and we're losing." Rex grabbed another bar from his belt. He pointed it at Mark, who wasn't even paying attention to any of them.
"You're losing," Eve corrected him. "I told you, we needed to attack him together."
"We attacked him in every way possible. He's clearly beyond our pay grade."
Mark's communicator beeped as Rex continued ranting. He waved the metal stick in the air and tossed it.
"You can't possibly think we—"
BOOM
The whole floor paused.
"What happened?" The younger heroes turned to each other.
Rex blinked. "Did I just…"
The smoke cleared as Mark lazily fanned it away.
Rex recovered with a guffaw. "Ha! I finally did it! Serves you right for letting your guard down, assface!"
"Yeah, you got me." Mark typed onto his watch. "Congrats."
Something in Rex's jaw twitched.
"Anyway, since you won, that means training's over. See you tomorrow."
Left alone, Rex grabbed his head and muttered, "Why don't I feel like I actually won?"
The other heroes surrounded him and offered their congratulations. Rex decided not to waste energy on worrying.
Meanwhile, Cecil watched as Mark flew upward, through an open panel in the skylight. "Donald, when was the last time anyone here got the jump on that kid?"
Although Invincible debuted four months ago, Mark Grayson has been training with the GDA way before that. He has been serving Uncle Sam since his mother struck a deal with Stedman.
"Um." Donald thought for a moment. "Never, sir. This is the first time anyone's managed to land a hit on him while he's actually focused."
Cecil narrowed his eyes.
Donald then hurriedly added, "At least I think so. I have to check our records to be sure."
At thirteen, Mark's reflexes could react to Red Rush. At sixteen, he could go toe-to-toe with Immortal. At nineteen, no one in Teen Team has ever taken him by surprise.
"No need. You're right." Cecil turned around, towards the direction of the control room. "He wasn't the type to let his guard down."
***
Lots of little boys dreamed of becoming a superhero. Mark used to be one of them.
His powers showed up exactly ten years ago. He was practicing his throw in their backyard and the baseball ended up five inches inside the trunk of a tree. He told his parents and the next day, Nolan was gone. And he didn't simply leave Mark and Debbie, no, he was gone from Earth. Cecil explained that their satellites spotted him leaving the atmosphere.
His mother never said it, but Mark knew she blamed him.
Debbie Grayson didn't believe in therapy, or heart-to-heart conversations, she believed in motion. Perpetual motion. She kept busy and made sure Mark was busy too. AP classes, Kumon, music lessons—everything except sports. She left the physical stuff to Cecil. They couldn't risk a civilian coach finding out that Mark could throw a ball across the entire planet.
Whether it was out of concern or distrust, Cecil didn't trust him to handle missions on his own. Until he turned nineteen, that is, and Invincible was born.
He always knew saving the world was a tough business. But having a name and a suit made it official. Permanent.
Real.
Too real.
He can still remember what Immortal told him once he became a hero: "Everything rests on your shoulders now, son. Don't let us down."
As if Mark cared about what they think.
It would have been easy to walk away. It wasn't like Cecil could do much to make him stay. But then that would make him no different than dear old dad. Mark couldn't have that.
Still, he missed the days when his missions were simple. Lowkey. Like catching gun-trotting humans and tailing government spies. Sometimes it was just sparring with the Guardians.
Now his days were infested with giant reptilians and crazy so-called geniuses.
That's why, even though superheroism was his future, he chose to attend college anyway. He was too young—too attractive to be as bitter as Cecil.
"Mark?" You stepped out of the lecture hall.
He got up from his squatting position and tugged on the strap of your backpack, silently asking to hand it over.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work."
"You're supposed to be taking it easy—geez, did your bag get heavier?"
"You know that I—"
"—study better with physical material. I remember, but that won't stop me from worrying about your spine." He slipped both straps over his shoulder, then he offered his hand. "Where do you wanna eat?"
You stared at his palm. "Mark… are you sure you don't want to go home and rest?"
"I wanna spend time with my girl." He flexed his fingers multiple times, asking come on. The bracelet you got him shined under the corridor's fluorescent light.
You didn't like how easily your body responded to him calling you his girl. When it came to romance, you weren't totally inexperienced, you have dated in the past, but you found other things far more interesting than the people you dated. This was the first time a man, an actual living person, gave you the butterflies.
"Princess?"
Physical touch didn't bother you. But that's only because you saw touch as a way to navigate the world, to study and examine.
You hesitated before placing your hand in his. It was cool and you began to panic because you were quite certain that he could feel how hot you were—
Mark stifled a laugh.
[Ding. Affection: 79%]
"W-what's so funny?"
"I was thinking that you look extra cute today."
"Uh. Thanks?" At least he didn't think your clammy hands were gross.
He intertwined your fingers together. He might as well had his hands under your blouse with the way he made your insides gooey.
According to history, humans seemed to really enjoy this feeling. You have lived vicariously, loved deeply through fictional characters, and you thought it was fun. However, now that you were experiencing it for yourself, you could not understand why.
Mark distracted you. His touch melted you. His gaze made you shy.
What's so great about another person having this much power over you?
You were adorable.
Mark has never seen you this anxious before presenting in front of the entire class, or after a major exam.
It was reassuring to affect you. He was concerned that maybe you would see dating him as an experiment forever, though he would take that over you losing interest.
He would be more than happy to be your lab rat.
"So," he reiterated, "dinner?"
***
"You are surprisingly naughty," Mark said, pushing open the door to the main building's rooftop.
At your suggestion, the two of you bought several bento boxes [2] from the convenience store and snuck up here.
"A little late to be complaining," you replied flatly as you rummaged through your bag for a handkerchief.
Mark took off his leather jacket and laid it flat on the floor. "I'm not complaining."
He motioned for you to sit down. When he saw your hesitant look, he cocked his head. "If you don't sit down, neither of us will be eating," he teased.
You shrugged. "All right." You slowly knelt down and did your best to be gentle as you flopped down on his jacket. "But what about—"
He sat cross-legged next to you.
"You could've borrowed my handkerchief."
"A true gentleman doesn't sully his lady's things." He opened the plastic bag. "Use your handkerchief, doll, I can handle getting dirty."
You shimmied out of your cardigan and flapped it over his legs.
"Princess—"
You placed your handkerchief over your knees. "If you take that off, neither of us will be eating."
He chuckled in that light, rumbly way that made you shiver. Mark had a handsome laugh. For the first time in your two lives, you found someone's laugh handsome.
He held up two boxes. "Which one do you wanna try first, the grilled salmon or the pork cutlet?"
You chose the salmon and the two of you finally began eating.
About three bites in, Mark asked, "Why did you wanna come here?"
"You chose now to ask me that?"
"I was scared that you'd take it back, so I waited until we were here."
"Logical."
"Thought you'd like that. So why here?"
"I didn't wanna hang out around too many people and I didn't feel like eating in my dorm. This was the first place that came to mind."
"Ah. I get that. I like to hang out here when I get too…"
"Overstimulated?"
"Uh-huh." He nodded. "I'll take you to my place sometime."
"Your dorm?"
"No, well, sorta? It's more like a condo—my, uh, uncle's loaded and lets me stay there. It's got a nice view over the city and you can come over when you want a change of scenery."
"Thanks." You smiled.
"No problem."
He nodded and sipped on his green tea.
"Hey, Mark?"
"Mm?"
"When are we going to have sex?"
Tea, spit and snot squirted out his nose and mouth. You patted his back. "Sorry, was that too inappropriate to bring up over dinner? I thought it's a normal thing for couples to discuss."
He heaved.
You furrowed your brows. "I'm sorry. I guess that's too forward."
He waved his hand, coughed, and spouted, "No! Don't you dare be sorry."
You handed him your water bottle. He took a careful sip before continuing, "You took me by surprise, but I like that you're honest with me, princess."
"Serious?" Many people say that they like honesty. Many people lie. You learned that the hard way.
"As a heart attack." He grinned. "I like everything about you."
Coming from anybody else, that line would have earned an eye roll from you, but coming from Mark? You were decimated.
You backed away from him. "Thanks. I guess."
His knuckles touched your wrist and you froze. [3]
"Do you wanna do it with me?" he asked, his voice teasing.
"I wouldn't have asked otherwise." You turned away from him. "Forget it. Can we change the subject, please?"
"Doll—"
"What do you want to do for a living?" One of the standard questions for students. It was a great ice-breaker and, in this case, a great distraction.
Mark stopped moving his knuckles. You heard him sigh, prompting you to sneek a peak.
All lightheartedness has drained from his face as he tipped his chin up. His dark eyes were distant. "That's a good question."
"You're not sure?"
"It's complicated."
"Oh."
Mark has officially added "hearing you upset" on his list of dislikes. He could tell you wanted to ask what he meant but refrained for his sake.
He hated seeing you in low spirits, especially because it was his fault.
He decided to correct that.
"I…" he tried to find the words. "I knew what everyone wanted me to be since I was a kid. I've been groomed for it."
"You mentioned that your uncle is rich. Are you supposed to take over the family business?"
"Kinda," he admitted sheepishly. "My other interests take a backseat. I had to negotiate attending college because I wanted some semblance of normalcy, which, now that I say it out loud, is very first world problem-coded."
He looked at you. You were focused on him, invested without a trace a judgment.
Feeling validated, he continued, "Anyway, I know what I'm supposed to do: fill my dad's shoes. I guess I can walk away, but all my life, this is what I've been preparing to be. It's the right thing to do. I can't even imagine what I else could be."
"…your dad must've really pressured you growing up, huh."
He snorted. It's the opposite, he wanted to say.
"I think I get what you mean about not knowing what else you could be."
"You do?"
"I'm… not good at anything besides studying. I'm not really all that smart—and this isn't me being self-deprecating, I know my strengths and weaknesses. I'm not good with people, or physical activity, and my skills in art and music leave a lot to be desired. But I like studying. I'm good at studying. The medical sciences in particular, fascinates me. I can forget about hunger and exhaustion when I'm reading a textbook. My teachers, my family told me that I should be a doctor, because it would be waste of my 'gift' not to be one, but…" You looked af him through your lashes and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"
"I can do anything for you, doll." He winked.
"…I don't really like helping people."
"That's your big secret?"
"Mark."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But aren't there doctors who don't directly deal with patients? You could be a pathologist or a researcher."
You shrugged. "It's a competitive world out there. If you don't have the connections, you'll end up broke with a useless degree."
"Ouch. So if you don't want to be a doctor, what do you want to be?"
"I don't know what I wanna be, but I do know what I wanna do. Can you keep another seret?"
"Is it as juicy as the first one?"
You wrinkled your nose and he was very tempted to kiss it.
"Go on, princess."
"I wanna win the lottery."
Mark remained silent.
You then added, "I wanna be so rich that I don't have to do anything."
Well, this part of you was cute, too.
He laughed.
"I mean it. I like studying but I don't have any grand ambitions like finding a cure for cancer or saving the world. I wanna lounge in my house without worrying about the bills."
"What's so bad about that?"
"I… I'm basically a loser. If I were broke and jobless, I'd be a bum." You frowned, looking more upset with each passing moment. "Don't you feel like judging me?"
Mark leaned over and pressed his lips on your forehead. "First of all, you're neither a loser nor a bum. Secondly, you're adorable. And third—" he murmured, "—thank you."
"'Thank you'?"
"Yes."
"You're… welcome," you said, clearly confused.
***
You finished your dinner, then went halfsies with ice cream (you chose mint chocolate, Mark had the ube and cheese), then Mark walked you back to your room.
He set your bag down on the floor. "You should get a roller backpack. I've seen the med students use 'em."
"I'll consider it." You folded your hands in front of you. "Do you want to stay and hang out?"
"Doll, I—and I'm not just saying this—I really, really do, but I gotta get back home and check up on some things for my… uncle."
"Oh. Okay."
There was that upset tone again, complete with the faint, disheartened smile.
"Take care," you mumbled, hanging your head, "and text me when you get home."
"Princess." He reached for your hand. "Do you want to do it with me?" he asked, and unlike before, neither his face nor his voice carried a hint of humor.
You were quiet for a few seconds, which felt like minutes.
Mark waited patiently as you gathered your thoughts. You then met his gaze. "I do."
Jesus. Those two words shouldn't affect him the way they did.
He gulped hard and whispered, "Do you want to have sex now?"
You knitted your eyebrows and glanced sideways. "Um…"
You scared her, moron. He calmed himself and reassured you, "I'm kidding."
"Okay."
"Can I ask, why the sudden interest in sexual intimacy?"
"We already kissed, we had our first date, we hold hands, I figured sex was next on the checklist."
He didn't know what else to expect. He ran his thumb over your knuckles, relishing how you flinched but didn't let go. "When do you want it to happen?"
You focused on his shoes as you answered, "I'm not sure. I told you, I'm not exactly experienced, which is why I requested a timeline. Unromantic, I know."
"Do you need a timeline?" It wasn't an exasperated question but a sincere one.
You thought about it. "I don't think I need it, but…" A brief look of hurt flashed over your features, but it left as quickly as it appeared. "I want to be prepared. I don't want you to be disappointed by my reactions. Or by me."
He raised your joined hands to his chin and kissed yours. "You can't disappoint me, beautiful." If he ever finds out who made you feel like this, Mark was going to kill him. "And don't worry about the timeline. We can take our time, until you're sure."
"Really?"
He squeezed your hand. "Really."
Mark said good night and left your dorm before the last shred of his restraint snapped.
His lips and hand still burned from kissing your knuckles. He had to get out of there before he was tempted to kiss your mouth and everything else.
"Get it together, Grayson." He ran his fingers through his hair as he exited the elevator.
It was only eight p.m. so there were several students out and about. He strolled into the waiting area of the lobby. There were some vacant seats, but Mark sat right next to the young woman reading Machiavelli.
"Having a hard time with the material?" He snaked his arm over the backrest. "You've been stuck on that page since we arrived here fifteen minutes ago."
"…"
Mark didn't bother looking at her. His practiced smile remained firm as he nodded at the other students passing by. His tone stayed light as he kept talking, "Come to think of it, you've been stuck on that chapter since the ice cream shop. And the rooftop. And her last class."
The woman's finger twitched.
Mark pretended not to see. His polite smile turned languid. "Here is what's going to happen next: I'm going to walk out of here, alone, and after ten minutes, you and the other rats will go back to the base with your limbs intact. I'm going to take a long, cold shower, and you are going to tell Cecil that if he drags my girlfriend into his bullshit, I'm going to get rid of every single spy he sends."
He then got up and bade good night to the security guard.
CHAPTER 15: Coming soon.
[1] I changed his middle name on purpose.
[2] Bento: Japanese. A pre-made meal, typically a lunch.
[3] This was sexier in my head.
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Disclaimer: The image used in this post does not belong to me. The image of the Alternate Invincibles is from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/
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