Hi!! I really liked your prisoner mark origin with his like, I think paralyzed waist down girlfriend, could you maybe do a all the variants with their disabled girlfriend, where she doesn’t die lol, just how they go about having a disabled lover! Pretty please 🙏
Very normal about your condition. Sure, he does worry sometimes, like when he has to leave you alone for long periods of time, but for the most part he is understanding. He respects your independence and is not the type to force his ideas of safety on you.
That being said, while he is laidback, he is still Mark Grayson. He will not tolerate anyone making fun of you or insulting you or looking down on you. His wrath does not discriminate either. The elementary school kids who stole your old wheelchair have a fear of heights now. The nosy old lady who turned her nose up to you at the grocery store and muttered “cripple” under her breath is missing her roof.
mohawk, shiesty, head cap, MASKLESS
Who needs a service dog when you have this guy waiting at your every beck and call? He has an amazing sixth sense when it comes to you; he’s pushing a glass of water towards you before you realize that you’re parched, and he’s already spinning the wheel of names you two made for takeout before your stomach can make a sound. He has an antenna dedicated for your needs.
He’s also an effective guard dog, unable to relax when there are other people near you. One look from his soul-sucking eyes is usually enough to scare away potential attackers, not that he will ever let you see that side of him.
FULL MASK, prisoner, sinister, no goggles
Dog? Oh, no, no, no–this man is the dragon flying around your ivory tower. Humans have always been weak, but you can’t even run away from danger. The outside world? Perish the thought. You have everything you need in the paradise he built just for the two of you: an entire library with a copy of every book in existence, a garden which houses every flower that belongs to his immortal empire, a whole planet to hold your favorite things, and a team of professionals dedicated to ensuring your safety and happiness.
He has eyes and ears everywhere so even when he’s not with you, he is still with you. Abandon all hope, you cannot escape your gilded cage, so just enjoy your life as the most pampered bird alive.
FLAXAN, OMNI-MARK, target, viltrumite
Disclaimer: The image used in this post does not belong to writerclaire. It was lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/
Summary: Request fic for @geeksandfreaks6713. “Hey, I don't know if your requests are open (if they aren't, I'm sorry!) but could you do something with either gee or frank where the reader’s paraplegic?”
Your boss said the band performing at the bar where you were worked tonight was called My Chemical Romance. Apparently, they’d just put out their first album through Eyeball Records. A lot of bands in this part of Jersey were associated with Eyeball, and some were more talented than others. You weren’t quite sure what to expect.
“You remember Pencey Prep?” your boss asked as he stood behind the bar, preparing a drink.
“Yeah, they played here a couple times last year, didn’t they?” you recalled.
“One of the guys from that band apparently plays guitar in this one now,” your boss informed you.
“Oh, yeah?” you replied. “Which one?”
“The singer.”
Ooh, I remember him, you thought, flushing. He was cute. What was his name? Frank?
“He ordered this drink,” the boss said, handing it to you. “Can you go give it to him, please?”
“Sure,” you nodded, taking the drink and ascending the steps to the stage, where the band had just started rehearsing.
They were already getting really into it. The vocalist was screaming his heart out, and the guitarist – the cute one from Pencey – was flailing around with his guitar like an animal.
“Um, Frank?” you mumbled, hoping you had his name right. “Sorry to interrupt, but….”
Frank was so in the zone that he must not have heard you, because he kept playing. He jumped around, swinging his guitar wildly. It would have looked cool and rock star-ish….if you hadn’t been standing right behind him. Instead, his instrument smacked into your leg when he leapt in your direction, knocking you to the ground.
“Oh, fuck!” Frank cried when he realized what had happened, and the band stopped playing immediately.
“I’m so sorry,” Frank said, helping you up. “I didn’t even see you back there.”
“Are you ok?” the bassist asked. The vocalist and the other guitarist were looking at you with concern, too.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shrugged. “Sorry I spilled that drink when I fell. I’ll get you a new one.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re ok,” Frank frowned. “I know that getting hit like that would have really hurt pretty much anybody with legs.”
“Um…..that’s kind of my point,” you reddened, and lifted up the cuff of your jeans to reveal your metal, prosthetic leg.
“…..Oh,” Frank gaped. “Oh…..are…..are they both…..”
“Yeah, they’re both prosthetic,” you nodded. “Don’t worry, I didn’t feel a thing.”
Frank continued to stare at your leg, embarrassed, like he didn’t know quite what to say.
“You want to know what happened to my legs, don’t you?” you guessed. It was pretty much everyone’s first question when they found out you were paraplegic.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Frank shrugged. You thought it was cool of him to say that. A lot of able-bodied people could be really invasive about it. You didn’t always want to explain your whole Story ™.
“I got in an accident a few years ago,” you explained, without going into too much detail. “It was hard to adjust at first, but, hey, the doctors said it was my legs, or my life. So, I guess I’m just happy I’m alive.”
“Is it hard to waitress with prosthetic legs?” Frank wondered. “I mean, since you’re on your feet all day…..”
“I mean, I definitely work shorter shifts than I did before the accident,” you admitted. “And I take longer breaks. But, it was important to me to go back to the same job I had before the accident, and not let the amputation stop me from having a normal life.”
“I think that kind of determination is really cool,” Frank smiled. “But, sorry, I won’t bug you with any more questions about it.”
“It’s ok,” you smiled. “Sorry I interrupted your practice. Your music was sounding pretty rad before I crashed into you.”
“Oh, no, no, it’s totally my fault,” Frank shook his head. “But, thank you, I’m glad you thought so.”
“Yeah, totally,” you grinned. You stepped off the stage, and let the band resume their rehearsal. You sat down at one of the tables so you could listen to them play. You figured your boss wouldn’t mind.
Damn, they were really good. A lot better than Pencey, to be honest. You thought they might really go places. And Frank sure looked cute playing guitar, too. His new haircut was sexier than the one he’d been sporting last time he performed here.
There was no way he’d be into you, though, you thought sadly. He’d seen your legs. You thought they made you look weird, and robot-like. You were really insecure about them, and that was why you always covered them with long pants (even though putting pants on as an amputee was an utter pain in the ass).
You went back to work, feeling vaguely melancholy as punk teenagers and regular bar patrons alike arrived, filling the room. My Chemical Romance had gone backstage by now. A different band (also associated with Eyeball) was opening for them. You took a few drink orders as the opening act began their set.
Suddenly, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder. You turned, and saw that it was Frank.
“Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Um, I have a question.”
“What is it?” you wondered as you passed your notepad of orders to the bartender.
“Are you able to dance with prosthetic legs?” Frank wondered.
“A little bit,” you nodded. “Slow dances are easier than fast ones.”
“Well, according to the setlist, the next song that band up there is going to play is a ballad,” Frank informed you with a smile. “So, umm…..would you like to slow dance with me?”
“F-for real?” you blushed.
“I mean, I can understand if you don’t want to,” Frank said awkwardly. “I mean, I did knock you on your ass earlier. But, I just thought you were really pretty, so……”
“Yes,” you said, taking the guitarist by the hand. “Yes, I’ll dance with you, Frank.”
“Oh…..awesome,” Frank grinned. “Uh, sorry, I don’t think I actually got your name earlier.”
“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Frank replied. “I’m Frank.”
“I know who you are,” you confessed. “I remember you, from your old band.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right, I almost forgot Pencey performed here,” Frank realized. You weren’t surprised he didn’t remember you. You hadn’t had the guts to actually talk to him back then. You wished you had. Back then, before the accident, you’d been such a good dancer, and been able to wear short, cute little dresses that showed off the muscular limbs you’d had.
But, Frank didn’t seem to care about all that. He gently placed his hand on your left hip as the band’s slow song started. The physical contact sent a warm shiver through your body. His other hand took yours, and he began dancing with you in slow circles, taking care not to spin you too fast, or knock you over again.
“If this, like, hurts you or something, and you need a break, just let me know, and you can sit down,” Frank said into your ear as you danced.
“Right now, I’m feeling just fine,” you smiled, holding onto him more tightly for support.
“I won’t let you trip, or fall down,” Frank promised. He was being very gentle with you, so sensitive of your needs. It was sweet.
He didn’t seem turned off by the slightly awkward clunkiness of your movements. He seemed happy simply to be able to hold you close on the dance floor.
You had to admit it felt good, having his body so close to yours. You decided to be brave, and leaned in for the kiss.
At first, Frank kissed you as gently as he danced with you, but then he became more passionate as your lips remained on his. One hand tangled into your hair lustily, but the other remained in yours, steadying you in case you started to slip.
You pulled away, breathless, as the song ended.
“I gotta go play with my band now,” Frank said, face red, smiling. “But, this was really fun. I don’t know what you’d like to do for a date, because I don’t know how much you can walk without getting tired, but I’d really like to take you somewhere sometime.”
“As long as we bring my wheelchair just in case,” you smiled, “I can go pretty much anywhere.”
You grabbed a napkin from off the bar and scribbled your phone number on it. “I do have to go sit down now,” you admitted, “because that did use up quite a few of my spoons, to be honest, but….it was totally worth it, because you’re really cute. Call me.”
“I will,” Frank winked, tucking the napkin into his back pocket as he walked back towards the stage to start his own set.
“And now,” your boss announced over the mic, “let’s hear it for My Chemical Romance!”
You sat at the same table as earlier, and grinned, happy to hear the band’s songs over again. You were almost happy you’d been bashed in the knee with a guitar, after all.
