Synopsis: After a brutal war leaves the Viltrumite Empire on the brink of extinction, you try to return to a normal life on Earth, but Thragg has other plans. Bound by blood you never knew you had and choices you can’t take back, you’re pulled into a dangerous power struggle where duty, control, and survival blur into something far more personal.
Cw: Spoilers for the comics (season 5), reader takes Mark's place in this story, post-war setting, au, dark themes, angst, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, trauma & recovery, violence, enemies to something worse lmao, coercion, toxic relationships, smut (f)(dub-con). A 🕊️ emoji will mark the section for readers who prefer to skip that part of the story.
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Chapter 1: The One Worthy
He stared down at the test results, disbelief tightening in his chest. Thragg couldn’t accept what he was seeing.
Weeks ago, after you, Nolan, and the Betrayer had reduced Viltrum to ruin, he had ordered the surviving Viltrumites—thirty-two of them, a pitiful remnant—to take refuge on Earth.
The directive had been clear: find mates, rebuild the Empire.
With numbers that low, inbreeding was inevitable, and that was unacceptable. Not just immoral by Viltrumite standards, but catastrophic. Shared alleles, recessive traits, weakness. Their superior blood diluted over generations until they were indistinguishable from the lesser species they once conquered.
No.
That could never be allowed.
Humans, according to the reports, were the most compatible. Nolan’s half-breed child had proven that much. Promising, at first. Until your records reached his hands.
Not long after you allowed the Viltrumites to remain on Earth, on the single condition that no human be harmed. The one-eyed alien calling himself Allen and your failure of a brother stole the Scourge Virus, intending to unleash it on the survivors.
You stopped him. You always did. You prevented a catastrophe, and paid for it by taking the infection into your own body.
That was why you had been quarantined for two weeks aboard the lunar vessel, isolated, watched, studied.
It wouldn’t have come to this if you had acted faster when Allen confronted you. If you hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t cared so much about the fragile humans who interfered, you might have avoided infection entirely.
Still, Thragg found himself almost grateful for your stubbornness. Without it, your disgraced brother would never have escaped, never would have infected you… and Thragg would never have uncovered what now lay before him.
At first, your survival had intrigued him. Your body—young by Viltrumite standards—had endured the Scourge Virus and fought it off.
He assumed it was your human blood carrying the burden. A flaw compensating for a weakness. But the results told a different story.
Your Viltrumite DNA wasn’t diluted. It was… elevated. Stronger. Cleaner.
Superior.
Infuriatingly so, even surpassing his own. Suspicion turned to obsession as he combed through archived records, cross-referencing, verifying. And then he found it. The truth.
You were a descendant of Emperor Argall. You… and Nolan. Traitors. Both of you.
Rage came swiftly, violently.
The doctor assigned to your care didn’t even have time to scream before Thragg ended him. The body hit the floor with a dull finality, forgotten just as quickly. Thragg turned, moving towards the sealed chamber where you lay, still unconscious, still tethered to oxygen tanks and IV lines. The quarantine period had passed. There was no longer any risk to him. Only to you.
The door slid open with a hiss.
He stepped inside slowly, deliberately, the air heavy with silence. His fingers twitched at his side as he approached your bed, his gaze fixed on your face; too peaceful, too unaware. Then his eyes lowered to your neck.
If he ended you now, everything would fall into place.
The Coalition’s mistake. The virus. Your death. The humans would mourn their precious hero, rage at the ones responsible, and in their desperation… they would turn to the Viltrumites for protection. Control would be effortless.
The plan unfolded in his mind with perfect clarity, looping like a vision already realized.
His hands rose, settling around your throat. Not tightening, not yet. Just feeling.
The warmth of your soft skin against his calloused palms. The fragile pulse beneath. It would be so easy. A squeeze. A snap. The end of a threat before it ever had the chance to rise.
“What are you—?” The voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.
Thragg turned sharply, irritation flashing into something sharper when he saw it. That ridiculous, meddling dinosaur. The one who had somehow slipped onto his ship.
He should have killed it the moment it revealed himself. Thragg knew that now.
No hesitation this time. Thragg’s fist connected first.
The impact alone split the air, a violent crack that echoed through the metal walls as the dinosaur was launched across the corridor, its massive body tearing through panels and wiring before slamming into the far bulkhead. The ship shuddered from the force. Sparks rained down.
But the creature didn’t stay down.
The dinosaur dragged itself upright with a guttural snarl, blood slipping between teeth, tail lashing behind as it charged again—reckless, unrelenting. He swung wide, tail aiming for Thragg’s throat, but Thragg moved faster. He caught the creature’s tail mid-swing and twisted.
A sickening crack.
The limb bent the wrong way, snapping beneath the Viltrumite's strength.
Still, the dinosaur lunged forward, jaws snapping shut inches from Thragg’s face. The force rattled the corridor, teeth scraping against each other with a sound that grated like grinding metal. Thragg drove his knee upward into the creature’s abdomen, the blow folding him in half before sending him crashing back again.
Metal groaned. The walls dented inward.
“You’re persistent,” Thragg said coldly, stepping forward through the settling smoke. “But persistence is not strength.”
The dinosaur spat blood, breathing heavy, but there was something sharp behind his pain, calculation. He pushed himself off the wreckage, ignoring the tail hanging uselessly at his back, and charged again, using his weight this time instead of precision.
He slammed into Thragg with enough force to drive them both through the corridor wall. They tore into another section of the vessel, debris collapsing around them as alarms blared louder, more frantic. The dinosaur didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not now. He clamped his jaws down on Thragg’s shoulder, teeth digging in, trying to anchor himself, trying to do something, anything.
For a moment, it looked like it might work.
Then Thragg grabbed him.
Both hands locked onto his skull, fingers digging into scale and bone as if it were nothing more than soft clay. With a single, brutal motion, he ripped the dinosaur free and slammed him headfirst into the floor. The impact cratered the metal beneath them.
“You should’ve never given me access to your files,” the dinosaur growled, blood thick in its voice but confidence unshaken. “I’ve learned a lot about you these past few hours. Enough to know… you don’t want anything bad happening to this ship. I found weaknesses. Made adjustments.”
A distant explosion thundered through the vessel, metal groaning as the shockwave rippled through its structure. Thragg’s glare sharpened, murderous.
“You talk too much,” Thragg muttered.
The dinosaur charged again, desperation fueling its final attempt. Jaws snapped wide, aiming to crush, to tear but against Thragg it was nothing. Less than nothing. Thragg caught its mandibles mid-lunge, grip tightening with brutal precision before wrenching them apart. Bone cracked. Flesh tore. The sound echoed, final and absolute.
But the creature didn’t fall, not yet.
With a last, reckless burst of strength, the dinosaur staggered past him—past the blood, the ruin—and into your containment room. He grabbed your unconscious body, cradling you against its massive frame, and bolted for the escape bay.
Thragg moved instantly, fury driving him forward as alarms continued to scream throughout the ship. The corridors blurred as he raced after them, the damage spreading, systems failing. By the time he reached the viewport it was too late.
The escape pod had already launched.
A small, distant shape cutting through the void… heading straight for Earth.
When your eyes finally opened, the first thing you saw was the moon—distant, suspended in a dark sky scattered with stars. For a moment, everything felt still. You pushed yourself up slowly from the floor, your body still weak, fragile. Every movement dragging pain along with it. Your hips barely lifted as you forced yourself onto a nearby chair.
As the chair turned, your view shifted; mountains stretched across the horizon, their silhouettes swallowed by a vast forest that seemed to go on endlessly. No cities. No lights. No signs of life. Not even the faint glow of civilization to break the darkness.
This place… you didn’t recognize it.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” The voice snapped you out of the thoughts. Turning over you saw David Anders standing in the doorway.
“David? What are we doing here?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up about an hour ago. Do you remember anything?”
You furrowed your brows, fingers pressing against the bridge of your nose as if forcing the memories back. “Not much… I woke up in a pile of wreckage. You were unconscious in your human form. After that, I blacked out again… probably from this.” You winced, clutching your stomach as you crouched slightly, trying to contain the pain twisting inside.
“And what about the—” David started.
“Dinosaurus?” you cut in. “I don’t know. I guess… he’s the one who brought us here.”
David tilted his head, a strange grin creeping onto his face. “Did I make you sick or something? Maybe I tricked you. When I’m the monster, I’m pure evil… that’s why you gotta watch out.”
“Pure evil?” you repeated, studying him. “No… if you think about it, why would he save us? Dinosaurus wouldn’t do something like this without a reason. He kinda reminds me of… well, my brother…”
“What? You still sick?”
“No, it’s nothing.” You shook your head lightly. “It’s just… my brother doesn’t mean to do bad things. He does what he thinks is necessary for the better outcome, without thinking about how it affects others.” You paused, your voice quieter now. “He’s not pure evil… he’s pure intelligence.”
You and David spent the hour going back and forth, debating whether Dinosaurus was truly evil or not. The argument circled endlessly, neither fully convinced, neither willing to give in.
“Whatever you say, girl,” David finally sighed, stretching. “I’m just gonna enjoy my time here. I’ve been stuck in that monster form for too long. I hope it never comes ba—”
His words cut off abruptly. You barely had time to react before his body began to twist, bones cracking, muscles expanding as the transformation took hold again.
Ironic timing.
“You’re looking much better.” Dinosaurus’ voice replaced David’s entirely as the transformation finished. He stood taller now, imposing, his presence filling the room. “My form rebuilds itself every time I transform.” He glanced around, sharp, alert. “Are they here yet?” His voice sharpened. “Have they struck?”
“Uh… I have no idea what you’re talking about,” confusion creeping into your voice.
“The Viltrumites!” he snapped. “He tried to kill you. I escaped, retreated here. Surely they would have followed.” He began pacing, sniffing the air, scanning the surroundings like a predator searching for a hidden threat.
“Well… it’s been a while since we landed,” you said cautiously. “If they wanted us dead, they would’ve found us by now.”
He paused, turning back to you. “How are you feeling? I was told you survived the worst of it.”
“Fine… just… weird.” You shifted slightly, wincing. “My body still hurts, but I’m managing.”
“Good. Try to stay alive.”
You hesitated, then spoke again. “You said he tried to kill me. Who’s ‘he’?”
“Thragg.”
“Thragg?”
“Yes.” His voice hardened. “He tried to kill me as well. Luckily, he was foolish enough to let me access his files. I found weaknesses in his ship, took advantage of them. That’s when I saw him… standing over you. His hands around your neck. About to snap it.”
Your stomach dropped. “But… why?” you whispered. “I thought we had an agreement…”
“I do not know why.”
The words had barely left his mouth when a loud wroom tore through the air.
A figure crashed straight into Dinosaurus, sending both of them across the room as the walls shook from the impact. They were on each other instantly, blows landing hard and fast.
You stared frozen. The new figure… looked like you. Same hair color. Even wearing your Invincible suit.
“Get out of here while you can!” he shouted, locking Dinosaurus in place. “I’ll slow him down!”
“What?! Why are you here?! Who are you?!” you yelled back, confusion twisting into panic.
Another voice tore in.
You turned just in time to see Atom Eve flying in. She pulled you into a quick, desperate hug, but it didn’t last. Another crash shattered the moment as glass exploded across the room.
Oliver burst through, grabbing Dinosaurus by the neck, shouting at him to stay away from you. Allen followed close behind, stepping in with measured caution.
“Keep your distance, Oliver,” Allen warned. “This guy’s no lightweight. Trust me.”
Everything spiraled too fast. Voices overlapping. Blows landing. No one listening.
Frustration boiled over.
Before you could stop yourself, you lunged forward and threw a punch. Your fist colliding with Allen’s thick, unyielding skin.
Pain exploded instantly.
A scream tore from your throat as you staggered back. Your hand split open on impact, muscle tearing, skin ripping as blood poured out rapidly, pooling at your feet.
Everyone suddenly stopped what they were doing.
Eve rushed towards you, her voice filled with panic as she dropped to your side.
He stared down at his hands, seated behind the desk in his office, still unable to shake the weight of your medical results.
He had already torn the reports apart, fed their remains to the fire, but destruction meant nothing. The truth lingered; etched into his memory, clawing at his thoughts, refusing to be silenced. At the very least, Lucan, Kregg, and Anissa had not been there to witness it. No one had. No one except the doctor assigned to your care, and Thragg had dealt with him swiftly, before a single word could be spoken.
Perhaps that was why the silence felt so suffocating.
His closest allies were scattered across Earth, carrying out his orders, leaving him alone with nothing but time. Nothing but waiting. Waiting for reports. Waiting for progress. And now, with you gone, the emptiness of it all became even more apparent. At least when you were here, there had been something to anticipate; whether you would recover… or finally succumb to the virus. It hadn’t mattered which. And yet, if he were honest with himself, your survival had made things far more interesting.
His thoughts drifted again, not to the data this time, but to you.
To the way your body had looked, small and fragile against the medical bed. The tubes. The oxygen mask. The IV fluids keeping you alive as the virus ravaged you from within. You had looked weaker then—paler, worn down, shadows carved beneath your eyes. And still… not unpleasant to look at. For a human, at least. Humans were inferior, he knew that, believed it without question. Yet the image lingered. Your hair pulled back neatly, your arms resting close together over the blanket as if even in unconsciousness you conserved what little strength you had.
It was becoming… irritating. How often you appeared in his thoughts.
Then, suddenly an idea.
With so few Viltrumites remaining, he had already ordered them to repopulate. To take human mates. To produce heirs that would rebuild the Empire. They had spread themselves across the planet; Kregg in Arizona, Lucan in New York, Anissa in Florida. Others scattered across nations he scarcely cared to remember. Brazil, Cuba, Germany, Egypt, Thailand, Russia, Japan, Australia. It didn’t matter where they went, only that they fulfilled their purpose. Still… there was something almost curious about Earth’s diversity. Vast. Varied. Different.
Perhaps… he should do the same.
Set an example.
Yes, that was it.
Thragg would show them how it should be done. How to choose properly. What traits to seek. Strength. Resilience. Intelligence. The qualities required to produce a child worthy of the Empire. Not equal to a pure-blooded Viltrumite. Never that, but something close. Something acceptable.
The thought stirred something unpleasant within him. Disgust.
But it was a necessary sacrifice.
The issue, however, was choosing someone. No human, realistically, met his standards. None were worthy of carrying his offspring. No matter how far he searched, how carefully he considered, there was always something lacking. Always weakness.
No one… except you.
You were the closest thing to perfection he had seen outside of his own kind. Proven strength. Proven capability. You had faced Viltrumites and survived. More than that, you had defeated them. Conquest, of all warriors. One of the Empire’s strongest. A soldier with thousands of years of experience. And you—just in your twenties, burdened with human blood—had beaten him. Twice. Killed Conquest during you last confrontation with him.
That had impressed him, genuinely.
Your resilience and refusal to yield. The way you fought, pushed forward, never allowing anything to stand in your way. That was what mattered. That was what his people needed to understand. Not weak, complacent humans content with their own mediocrity but individuals who strived. Who endured. Who evolved.
You embodied that.
If he were to do this… then you would be the one.
The only one worthy of carrying his heirs.
And with your lineage—Argall’s blood still flowing through you—this would not merely be necessity. It would be destiny. A final gift to the Empire. Heirs who would carry both Argall’s legacy and his own.
The plan was logical, sound. Already solidifying into certainty.
Thragg rose from his chair, the decision settling firmly in his mind. There were preparations to be made aboard the hidden ship on the moon before his departure. He knew where to find you. Chicago. Living with your human mother and half-brother. Nolan would likely still linger nearby. Unable to detach himself from his attachments, your mother.
Annoying.
If confrontation became unavoidable, it would be dealt with. Nolan was no match for him. Not in strength, not in experience, not in anything that mattered. It would be inconvenient, perhaps even regrettable. Once, Nolan had been a loyal soldier. Worthy of respect. But if he stood in the way he would be removed.
Thragg exhaled slowly, his resolve unshaken.
Your existence would more than make up for betrayal.
Both of you… saviors of Viltrum.
Soon, he would leave the ship and return to Earth for a second time.
You were sitting on a bench at the campus park, waiting for Eve and William, your attention fixed on your arm, still shattered. Cecil’s people had done what they could, performing surgery, installing robotic components to stabilize it. Your strength had returned, mostly. But your durability… hadn’t.
Thoughts drifted, back to where it all began. The Scourge Virus. Oliver, careless and reckless. Infecting you without even meaning to. You loved your little brother, you really did, but sometimes… it was frustrating. The way he ignored the warnings, the way everything he touched seemed to spiral into chaos. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. Just stubborn. Always chasing the end goal, no matter the cost, no matter who got hurt along the way.
What was the point of saving the world… if there was no one left to save?
Oliver never thought about that, and it was starting to get irritating. He was getting older, stronger, and if he didn’t start understanding the consequences of his actions… you didn’t want to think about what he might become. You cared too much for him; Too much to watch him destroy himself like that.
“Hey! You’re back!” William’s voice snapped you out of the thoughts. He jogged towards you, Eve and Rick trailing behind side by side.
“William, I’m happy to see you too.”
“You know I’m very hurt you didn’t tell me sooner you’d be back.”
“Sorry… I barely had time to get settled before—”
“Before you got sick, yeah, I know. Eve filled me in,” he cut in, waving it off. “Don’t worry, I’m just being dramatic. But seriously, I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad to be back too.” You gave him a small, genuine smile.
“Hey, is anyone else hungry? Because I could eat anything right now,” William announced.
“Ugh, I’m starving,” Eve groaned. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“Perfect,” Rick chimed in. “There’s a new ramen place down the street. We should try it.” Seems like he had been really wanting to go to this place, but the opportunity never came until now.
“Sounds good.”
You stood from the bench and fell into step besides them, letting the conversation carry you forward.
Not long after the war—before the virus—you had flashes. The hallucinations. The way your mind twisted reality into something unbearable. You’d see Anissa tearing William’s jaw open, only to blink and find him standing there, completely fine. It had been like that with everyone. Every conversation, every glance, you saw them being ripped apart, blood everywhere, Viltrumites slaughtering them like it was nothing.
It had been suffocating.
You went to Cecil. Asked for help, real help. Doctors. Therapy. And it did get better, sowly. But no matter how much you tried to bury it, the fear never fully left. It lingered, quiet but constant, in the back of your mind.
You couldn’t go through that again.
A small bell chimed as Rick held the door open for everyone.
The restaurant was modest. Cozy. A few college students sat scattered around, quietly eating. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Alright, what’s everyone getting?” William asked, already staring up at the menu screen.
“I’ll have tuna rolls and gyoza with a matcha boba,” Eve said.
“I’ll take tonkotsu ramen,” you added.
“Just onigiri for me,”
“Got it. I’ll order. You guys grab a table.” William headed off towards the counter.
Rick picked a table by the window. You sat beside Eve, leaving the open seat across for William.
A few minutes later, he returned. “Alright, food should be out in about 20 to 30 minutes.” He dropped into his seat next to Rick, then leaned forward slightly. “Sooo… have you talked to Amber yet?”
Of course he’d ask that. William thrived on this kind of thing.
“No. Not yet. I haven’t had time.”
“Well… are you going to?”
You hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to… I just don’t want to worry her with all this. She has her own life, her own problems. I don’t think it’s fair to drag her back into mine.” You scratched the back of your head. “Besides… we broke up almost two years ago.”
“She still asks about you, you know,” Eve added casually.
You blinked. “She does?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought she didn’t want anything to do with me after… everything.” Your gaze dropped slightly, memories creeping back in. All the times she’d asked where you were, why you kept disappearing. You thought you were protecting her by not saying anything but all it had done was push her away.
You messed that up.
If you’d known it would hurt her that much… maybe you wouldn’t have dated her at all. Maybe it would’ve been better to just stay friends.
“Well, she does have a boyfriend now,” William added, “but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want to be friends again.”
“You really think she’d talk to me?”
“Of course. We’re not saying to get back together. I doubt she’d want that anyway, but you should at least try. As friends.”
“I guess…” you murmured. “I just don’t want to hurt her again.”
The waiter approached then, balancing a tray filled with steaming dishes. One by one, he placed them on the table. “Enjoy,” he said before heading back to the kitchen.
You reached for the water first, taking a small sip before grabbing a spoon to taste the broth. It was warm and comforting, and for a moment, everything felt… normal.
Thragg watched from a distance; Silent and unseen. He observed—carefully, methodically—how you carried yourself when you weren’t tearing down empires or “saving” the world.
Your life was… simple. Almost disappointingly so.
Most days were spent with Eve, the two of you waiting around for William to finish his classes so the three of you could fall into your routine: the mall, movies, wandering through the city with no real destination, coffee shops, ramen places, bookstores. Small, meaningless human indulgences repeated day after day. Then on Saturday, you went to the beach, staying from morning until nightfall, only leaving when the sky darkened and the world quieted.
From what he gathered, you enjoyed going out. Being surrounded by people. You laughed easily, ate whatever you pleased, and seemed… content.
Thragg had learned a great deal about you in that single week.
And you hadn’t noticed him once.
Blending in among humans was insultingly easy.
One night, while the city slept, he slipped into a clothing store unnoticed. He selected what he needed with little care for fashion, just function. A red shirt with dark blue pants made from some strange blend of cotton and synthetic fibers. White shoes, simple and comfortable. A hat—polyester, with a button at the top, a curved brim to shield the face, and a strap at the back to adjust its fit.
On his way out, something else caught his attention. A mannequin stood near the display window, dressed like the others, but its face was different. Covered with something black stretched over its eyes.
Thragg paused.
Curious.
He took it as well, examining it briefly before placing it on his own face. It served its purpose. He left without another thought.
But then Sunday came. Something changed. You didn’t meet Eve or William. You met someone else, a man.
Thragg’s gaze sharpened instantly. Your mate, perhaps.
It didn’t matter who he was; If he became an obstacle, he would be removed. Still, curiosity lingered. He followed at a careful distance, close enough to hear, far enough to remain undetected.
“I was just worried about you… I haven’t seen you in years,” the man admitted, his voice uneasy.
You didn’t answer, barely looked at him, your attention fixed elsewhere, as if he were nothing more than background noise.
The silence stretched.
He sighed. “Look… I just missed you. I wanted to see you again.”
“James…” You rubbed your temple, already sounding exhausted.
“Just think about it. Give me another chance?”
“A chance?” you echoed, incredulous. “You were the one who broke up with me.”
“I know I messed up—” his voice cracked, desperate now. “Just… please forgive me. Let’s pretend none of it happened. We can start over, start new."
Your expression hardened. “What, Jackie stopped answering your messages?” you shot back, your tone sharp, biting. “So now you come running back to me, hoping to get your dick wet?”
He flinched at that but said nothing, just stared at the ground like a loser.
“You’re unbelievable,” you snapped, turning away from him, already done with the conversation. But he grabbed your arm.
“Babe, please wait. That’s not it. I really missed you!”
“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, trying to pull free. “Let go of me, James.”
“Just listen—”
“No!” Your voice cut through him, final. “You had your chance. And you ruined it.”
With a sharp movement, you struck his chest, just enough force to break his grip. He stumbled backwards, falling hard onto the ground as you turned and ran, putting as much distance between the two as possible.
Thragg watched it all unfold, unmoving and unimpressed.
This was the man you had chosen?
Pathetic.
Weak. Spineless. All that begging, that whining. It was almost painful to witness. Whatever connection you once had, it was clear now: it had ended badly. And deservedly so.
To see someone like you—strong, capable, relentless—reduced to tolerating something like that… it was almost insulting.
If you had been one of his soldiers—one of the Viltrumites he had ordered to repopulate with humans—he would have reprimanded you without hesitation for choosing someone so utterly unworthy.
Just another reason.
Another confirmation.
Why he needed to intervene. Why you needed to be the example.
You got home late, taking a detour to Eve’s place to tell her everything that had happened with James. She had been furious, angry that he even dared to reach out to you again after everything he had done. After the way he ended things.
You slipped quietly into the house, careful not to wake your mother or Oliver as you made your way to the bathroom. The shower helped; washing away the residue of the day, the tension clinging to your skin—but it didn’t quiet your thoughts. You dried off, leaving the towel draped carelessly over a chair, too exhausted to put it away properly. Then applied lotion on your skin, putting on the underwear and an oversized t-shirt after.
Your phone buzzed.
A notification from an unknown number, but you already knew who it was before you even opened it.
“Can we please talk?”
James.
You stared at the message for a moment, your jaw tightening. How he even got your new number was beyond you. With a quiet sigh, you muted the phone and left it on the nightstand to charge, unwilling to give him more attention.
But your mind didn’t listen, it drifted back. Back to those years with him.
You remembered when things started to change, how distant he became. The lack of touch. No hugs or kisses, just a dry half-hearted “hey babe” before turning his attention elsewhere. You told yourself it was nothing at first. Stress. School. Life.
Then came that night.
You had just finished a brutal physics exam, nerves already frayed, convinced you had failed when your phone lit up with a long message. A rant. Line after line of dissatisfaction, of cold detachment, ending with two words that shattered everything.
We’re over.
You remembered how your chest tightened, how your hands shook as you called William, desperate, barely able to get the words out. He had come to your dorm immediately, staying with you, making sure you weren’t alone… making sure you didn’t do anything stupid.
Two weeks later, you found out the truth.
Jackie.
He had been cheating the entire time.
And while part of you was relieved you weren’t with him anymore, it didn’t erase the bitterness. The way he spoke to you in that message, like you weren’t enough, like you were something to discard while hiding the fact that he already had someone else.
Then, a year later, you met Amber.
She was different. Kind. Patient. She made you feel safe, understood. At first, things were good—really good. But then your responsibilities grew heavier. Cecil pulled you away more often. Missions stacked on top of each other, each one more dangerous than the last, and they never stopped coming.
You didn’t tell her why at first, thinking you were protecting Amber; keeping her out of it, keeping her safe from becoming a target. It made sense at the time. It felt right.
But it wasn’t.
The distance grew. Arguments followed. You scrambled for excuses, anything to avoid telling her the truth. But Amber wasn’t naive, she saw through it. She even accused you of cheating once, despite knowing what you had gone through with James.
That hurt a lot.
Eventually, when things calmed down—when the chaos gave you just enough breathing room—you told her everything. About being Invincible. About the constant danger.
She was shocked, of course. Said she knew something was off, but never imagined that. She understood. She really did. But understanding didn’t mean she could stay.
Her heart couldn’t handle loving someone who was always gone, always in danger. And you… you deserved someone who could live that life with you.
So she ended it.
And you agreed.
Even as the tears wouldn’t stop, even as your chest ached like it was being torn apart all over again, you knew she was right.
Amber hadn’t betrayed you.
She had chosen herself.
And you respected her for that.
You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing your body to rest but sleep wouldn’t come. Something felt wrong. Your instincts screaming, loud and persistent, refusing to be ignored.
With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, reaching for the water bottle nearby, taking a sip when you saw it. Through your window.
There was a figure.
Hovering at a distance, silhouetted by the full moon behind them. You couldn’t make out their features, but they weren’t hiding. They weren’t moving. Just… watching.
Waiting.
Viltrumite.
The thought came instantly.
You didn’t bother changing. No suit. No hesitation. You shot out the window, flying straight towards the figure, fist already pulling back, ready to strike but you stopped. Your body wasn’t fully healed. You knew that. And for a split second, that realization held you back. Long enough to see who it was.
Thragg.
“What are you doing here?!” you demanded, anger sharp in your voice.
“Calm yourself,” he said evenly, his hand lifting slightly to lower your fist, which hovered mere inches from his face. “I wish to speak with you.”
“After you tried to kill me, you want to talk?!”
“I see that dinosaur still lives, considering you are aware of that,” he replied, almost dismissively. “A shame. I had hoped he would bleed out in the escape pod. But that is… precisely what I wish to discuss.”
“Then talk.”
For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes shifted, scanning the surroundings.
“Not here,” he finally said. “Come.”
Before you could react his hand moved, gripping your lower back, pulling you closer to him as he ascended rapidly into the sky, dragging you along with him.
“I can fly too, you know…”
You were back on the Viltrumite ship, inside Thragg’s office.
He hadn’t spoken yet.
But you could see it in him. The tension. The way his jaw tightened, muscles shifting beneath his skin as if he were carefully choosing his words, shaping them into something deliberate. Whatever this was, it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t simple.
It was something he cared about.
And that alone put you on edge.
Growing impatient, you snapped, “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. I don’t have all the time in the world for you.”
His gaze snapped to you, sharp enough to feel like it burned into your skull. “Do you know of Emperor Argall?”
“Argall?” You frowned slightly. “Not really. Just what my dad mentioned, and that wasn’t much. Just that he was some Viltrumite emperor… and that Thaedus killed him.”
“Emperor Argall,” Thragg corrected, his tone tightening. “Was the greatest Viltrumite to ever exist. He fought his way to the throne. He was wise. He led our people to victory after victory. He taught us how to conquer, to claim the galaxy as ours.” His voice lowered slightly. “And he was murdered. Stabbed through the head by the Betrayer… Thaedus, as you call him.”
You leaned back slightly, unimpressed. “Is that what you dragged me here for? To give me a history lesson about your favorite tyrant?”
Thragg’s hands pressed together slowly, his restraint visibly thinning. “You lack discipline,” he said coldly. “That is something I can correct… in time.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re talking like I’m staying here.”
“That,” he said, the faintest twitch of a smirk pulling at his lips, “is exactly what I wished to discuss.”
“About what? More stories about Viltrum?”
He ignored your attempt at provocation.
“Did your father ever tell you about Argall’s missing heirs?”
“No…”
“Hmm.” He turned slightly, pacing behind his desk. “It seems he was unaware as well. After Argall’s death, his children were taken, hidden away to be protected until the time came for them to return and reclaim the throne. In their absence, I took command of the Empire. I ruled until his heirs could be found.” His tone hardened. “Many impostors rose, claiming that bloodline. Weak fools. All of them died trying to take what was never theirs.”
You stayed quiet this time, watching him, listening despite yourself. You hated everything the Viltrumite Empire stood for, but you couldn’t deny. It was… interesting in its own way.
“For centuries, we found nothing,” he continued. “No true descendants. No trace of Argall’s line.”
You frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”
He paused. Then turned his back to you, standing still behind his desk. “Because…” The silence stretched—heavy, suffocating—before he finally finished. “You and your father are Argall’s true descendants.”
Your breath hitched. “Wh-what? How do you even know that?!” Your voice trembled, anger and disbelief tangling together.
“You were not meant to survive the Scourge Virus,” he said calmly. “None of us were. Yet your body endured. We took samples, compared your blood to that of other Viltrumites. We believed, perhaps, there was a way to replicate your resilience… a way to save our people should another outbreak occur.” His gaze sharpened. “But your DNA was not merely resilient. It was different. Superior.”
He stepped closer.
“I compared your records to archived genetic data. Emperor Argall’s records… and they matched.”
Before you could react he moved fast. His hand shot forward, wrapping around your throat, forcing you back against the floor as his grip tightened, cutting off your air.
“You did not truly believe I would surrender the Empire to you and your father, did you?” he hissed, his voice low against your ear. “Not after everything you’ve done. After slaughtering our people. After destroying our world.” His grip tightened slightly. “Because of you… because of Nolan… we stand on the brink of extinction.”
Your vision blurred at the edges.
Then he loosened his grip. Not releasing you. Just enough to let you breathe. “But,” he continued, calmer now, “I am willing to offer you something.”
You sucked in a breath, your hand instinctively grasping at his wrist. “What…?” your voice came out softer than you intended.
“We must rebuild. Lead. Be an example to the others.” His eyes locked onto yours. “And for that… I have a proposition.”
“What is it?”
A slow smirk spread across his face, this time unmistakable. “I have been observing you,” he admitted. “Watching. Learning. You chose a mate, a human named James.” His tone turned almost disdainful. “Pathetic. Weak. An insult to someone of your capabilities.”
Your stomach dropped.
“I will not allow the remaining Viltrumites to dilute our bloodline with worthless specimens like him,” he continued. “We are rebuilding an empire, not dragging it into ruin. You will set the example. You will show them what to seek in a mate.”
Your heart pounded.
“What?!” Your voice broke, sharp and disbelieving. “Have you completely lost your mind?!”
“I could kill you now,” he said flatly. “Rip your head from your body. Crush your throat in an instant. You are still weak. You cannot defeat me like this.” His gaze hardened. “But I am offering you mercy. A choice.”
A bitter pause.
“One you never gave us.”
Your thoughts spiraled. He was right. You couldn’t fight him, not like this. Not with your body still recovering, your strength uneven, your hand barely healed.
And he wasn’t wrong about the rest. You had followed Thaedus and your father, helped destroy Viltrum without thinking about what came after. Where they would go. What they would do. You had pushed them to Earth.
Your chest tightened.
Damn it.
Damn your choices. Your impulsiveness. Your need to end the war without considering the aftermath.
“What… did you have in mind?” you finally asked, your voice trembling as tears slipped down.
Something softened in his expression—unnatural. Unsettling. He reached out, brushing the tears from your cheek with his thumb. Then, without warning, he lifted you. Placing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.
He turned, walking out of the office.
A new set of doors slid open with a soft shhfft as he carried you deeper into the ship.
Into a bedroom.
🕊️ 🕊️ 🕊️
He threw you onto a soft surface, his bed.
The sheets were smooth; cool satin in a muted grey, the fabric shifting beneath as your body sank into it.
Not giving you time to react he settled between your legs, on top.
“We will restore the Empire,” he murmured, his voice low, unwavering. “Argall’s legacy will continue… through our sacrifice, through us."
It felt like an unscratchable itch. The outline of his covered manhood brushed against your clothed sex, causing an ache that refused to be ignored.
The weight of him pressed you deeper into the mattress, overwhelming, suffocating in the way only he could be. Every inch of him radiated control, purpose. There was no hesitation in him. No doubt.
Your hands instinctively came up to his chest, fingers pressing against the hard planes of his muscled pectorals beneath your palms. Solid. Unmoving. You tried to ground yourself better, to steady the sudden heat blooming under your skin, to push him away, but he didn’t move.
Instead, he leaned closer. Closer than before. His presence swallowed yours whole, his breath ghosting along your neck as if committing you to memory. "No," he murmured as he drew nearer, one arm resting next to the cushion your head was on and the other moving down to your underwear, carefully peeling it off.
Your breath hitched as his hand moved—slow, deliberate, unhurried in a way that made your chest tighten. He took his time, as if nothing in the universe could interrupt him, as if you were already his to claim. And maybe, in his mind you already were.
You cursed yourself. For the oversized shirt. For the way you had rushed out without thinking, without preparing. Meeting him exactly as you were, unguarded. Vulnerable.
He stripped away that last barrier of clothing with quiet efficiency, discarding it as though it had never mattered. Getting to work immediately he gave you no time to prepare as he slid himself inside your folds. You gave out an agonizing whine.
There was no tenderness in the way he thrusted in—no softness, no gentle reassurance. For you, this kind of closeness had always meant something else: trust, intimacy, something shared in love. For him… it was a purpose, duty; Something instinctive, stripped of emotion. Yet heavier because of it.
The moment tightened, stretched thin until it almost snapped. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—heat pooling low, unfamiliar, unwelcome, impossible to ignore.
“Wait—” your voice faltered, breath uneven, “you’re—”
Too much. Too close. Too overwhelming.
Thragg weighed around 200 or 300 pounds of sheer muscle, and his lenght didn't fail to lived up to expectations. He felt approximately six or seven inches when he was fully sheeted inside of you. The sensation of him dragging his cock inside your gummy walls made it difficult to tell.
He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. Only adjusted, as if your resistance was nothing more than a variable to account for.
“Too tight,” he muttered under his breath, more observation than complaint.
“You’re too big,” you shot back, your voice breaking despite yourself.
He ignored you. Of course he did.
And then something shifted. A rhythm.
His thrusts became violent poundings, his breathing became more labored, and he periodically let out low groans that he couldn't contain. Not gentle, never gentle. But controlled. Measured in its own way. Your body tensed against him at first, resisting, struggling to keep up with the intensity of his presence, the overwhelming closeness of it all.
He abruptly drove back inside, finding that soft spot, which caused your toes to curl. He gasped in surprise, letting out a loud groan as you clenched hard around him.
"There," you cried, losing yourself in the pleasure you were experiencing, resting your hands on his back.
His reaction was immediate.
Your hands found his shoulders, gripping tighter—not pushing him away, but holding on. Anchoring yourself as sensation built, unfamiliar and overwhelming, coiling tighter and tighter.
Your breathing quickened as the world narrowed. Reduced to heat, to pressure, to the unbearable awareness of him.
And then you moved. Not away but with him. Your legs pulled him closer, instinct overriding thought, your body responding in a way your mind hadn’t yet processed.
A low sound escaped him; unexpected, unguarded.
“Fuuuck—” His dick twitched aggressively inside. For the first time, something in him cracked. Something dangerous.
The tension had snapped.
Everything unraveled at once, your body tightening around him, your cunt clenching harder on his cock, the grip on him sharpening as sensation crested and the coil snapped, leaving you breathless, trembling beneath him as you came.
With one final thrust and a low, strained moan, Thragg spilled his release inside you.
He stilled only for a second, breathing sharply. The control he carried slipped just enough to betray the intensity of the moment.
You barely had time to recover.
“We’re not done.” His voice was steadier now but heavier. He shifted you easily, positioning you with deliberate intent into a mating press. Your legs resting on top of his shoulders.
Your body protested from exhaustion, but he didn’t care.
Still covered in sticky fluids, his tip glided easily across your entrance.
He hammered his way back inside without waiting another second. Falling back in after pulling out. Your body still sensitive from the previous orgasm.
You held on him tightly, loud moans coming out as your nails dragged across his back.
Then an idea.
Before you could think, before doubt could catch up, you pushed back. Turned the balance, enough to surprise him. Enough to make him pause for the first time.
You took the lead as your hips sank down on him, moving at your own rhythm. Uncertain at first, then firmer, guided by instinct rather than thought.
And Thragg…
Thragg reacted.
A sharp intake of breath.
His hands came to your hips, steadying you, guiding but not stopping. His gaze locked onto you, something unreadable flickering behind it. This wasn’t just control anymore. This was something else. Something he wasn’t meant to feel. Something he shouldn’t be allowing.
And yet he didn’t stop it ...not for today at least.
The tension built again, faster this time, tighter. "I’m about to—" Your walls tightened, attempting to milk him again. Hands bracing against his chest, your movements sharper, more desperate, until your body gave in once more. The sensation crashing through, leaving you trembling as your strength gave out, his erection quivering as he filled you with his warm cum one more time.
You collapsed forward, your weight falling against him, breath uneven, limbs heavy. Neither of you moved. Just the sound of heavy breathing and scent of sex lingering in the air.
Your eyes fluttered, exhaustion finally dragging you down.
Then his voice broke through—low, almost thoughtful. “Before I forget… do not concern yourself with your former mate.”
Your heart skipped.
“He will not trouble you again. Consider it… a gift.”
Something cold settled in your chest, but you were too tired to care. Too drained to question it.
Your eyes closed.
And this time you didn’t fight the sleep.
🕊️ 🕊️ 🕊️
You woke slowly, your body tangled in soft blankets that still held the warmth of the night before. For a minute, everything felt distant; your vision still blurred, the mind sluggish, caught somewhere between sleep and awareness. Then it cleared.
You were still in his room.
The space felt… different without him there. Quieter. Colder, despite the lingering warmth pressed into the sheets beneath you. Your body ached as you shifted, every movement reminding you of everything that had happened. Your limbs felt heavy, unfamiliar, like they didn’t quite belong to you yet.
He was gone.
That realization settled deeper than you expected.
You pushed yourself up slowly, muscles protesting immediately, legs trembled the moment they touched the floor, barely able to support your weight as you stood. Steadying yourself against the edge of the bed, breathing through the weakness, forcing your body to cooperate.
Your clothes were scattered nearby, carelessly discarded. Gathering them quickly, fingers fumbling slightly as you dressed, movements rushed, not out of urgency alone but something else. Something restless sitting beneath your ribs.
You couldn’t stay here. Not a second longer.
The door slid open with a quiet hiss as you slipped out into the corridor, immediately alert. The halls stretched long and cold, unfamiliar and hostile. You kept close to the walls, moving carefully, listening for any sign of movement.
Viltrumites.
Feeling them even when you couldn’t see them; patrolling, guarding, watching. You avoided them instinctively, slipping past intersections, timing your steps between their movements. Every second felt stretched, fragile, like one wrong move would shatter everything.
Your heart pounded louder with each step.
Down the corridors. Past the upper levels. Deeper, until finally the lower sections of the ship, where the exit awaited.
The doors loomed ahead, massive and silent. For a moment, you hesitated—just a fraction of a second—before pushing forward.
The atmosphere hit you instantly as you descended, the cold vastness of space giving way to the familiar pull of Earth below. The wind rushed past you as you fell, then flew, your body remembering what to do even if it still ached with every movement.
Home at last.
Thragg sat alone in his office, the faint glow of the new reports reflecting across his face as he read through them again. Slowly, deliberately, as if repetition might somehow change what was written there.
It didn’t.
Lucan. Anissa. Kregg. Even Thula.
All of them, failing.
Little progress. No meaningful results. Just fragments of effort that amounted to nothing. It was… infuriating. Not in the explosive, violent way he was used to, but something quieter. Heavier. A persistent pressure behind his eyes that settled into a dull, throbbing headache.
Disappointing.
He exhaled slowly, setting the report down against his desk with controlled restraint. This was not how the Empire rebuilt itself.
Without another thought, he sent the command—brief, direct, unquestionable. All of them were to return to the Viltrumite ship within the hour. There would be explanations. There would be consequences.
Silence settled again.
Then a sharp knock broke through it. Loud. Echoing against the cold metal walls of his office.
“Come in,” Thragg said, his voice calm.
The door slid open, and a Viltrumite stepped inside, posture rigid, careful. “Sire, forgive the interruption. This is… urgent.” He cleared his throat, as if choosing his words carefully. “The woman you instructed us to monitor… she has left the ship. Not long ago.”
Thragg closed his eyes briefly.
Another problem, another failure.
A quiet sigh slipped past his lips, less anger now, more exhaustion. The kind that came from constant disappointment rather than resistance.
“Ensure she is not lost again,” he said, his tone even, controlled. “A tracker was implanted on the nape of her neck. Her location is known at all times.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair, gaze distant but sharp.
“Continue observation. Monitor her condition closely. Any changes—physical, behavioral, anything at all, you report it to me immediately.” His voice lowered, carrying a quiet weight. “Nothing is insignificant.”
“Yes, sire.”
The Viltrumite bowed his head, then turned and left as quickly as he had entered. The door slid shut behind him.
And once again Thragg was alone.
The silence returned, heavier than before.
He remained still long after the door closed, the silence settling deep into the room. His gaze drifted. Not to the reports, not to the mission, but somewhere far beyond it.
She left.
A faint exhale left him, quieter this time.
“It changes nothing,” he murmured to himself, though the words felt less certain than before. Still… his eyes sharpened again.
“Run if you wish.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, something unreadable flickering there.
“I will find you.”
Dividers by: @\bhavihelps
Note: Tried my best to make him not too out of his character
Summary: You and Mark Grayson were neighbors and childhood best friends, until he has to move away one day for reasons unknown to you. But when he came back, he came back differently, not just as your friend but also as an alien ready to conquer the Earth and its inhabitants. There was just one more stranger thing though, Mark’s undeniable favoritism towards you.
Wc: 7.9k
Requested by anon
He couldn’t help but still remember your face. Your voice. Your laugh. He didn’t know what to think. It was like you haunted every single one of his thoughts. Mark hadn’t seen you in years yet for some reason you still mattered so much to him. Maybe it was because you were his first and only friend before he was brought to the viltrum empire by his father. Whenever he had one of those sleepless nights, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, Mark couldn’t fight reminiscing about your first encounter with him.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Mark jumped at the sound of a boy’s voice. His head rose to the fence and spotted you, using your arms to just barely hang over the edge. Your hair was messy, and there was dirt smudged on your face, but what else do you expect from a kid.
The day you first talked to him was one of those days where Mark would take a random sheet or something close enough to resemble a cape, and run around his backyard, pretending to be a superhero like his dad. He had to prepare for when he finally got his powers of course.
Sure, it got a little bit lonely playing by himself, but he still knew how to make it fun.
“Hey, are you deaf or something? What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed.
Mark cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Just playing.”
“You look like a superhero.” You tilted your head, looking closely at his makeshift cape. “I like it. I like playing hero too. My parents tell me I won’t get powers anytime soon though.” You pouted but then looked up again with a smile, revealing a few missing teeth. “But it’s fun to pretend. Can I join you? Do you wanna be friends?” You leaned in more, getting even closer to fall of the edge.
“Uhh.” Mark’s eyes looked back and forth. No kid has ever talked to him as eager as you, let alone ask to play with him. Plus, his dad told him friends would distract him from training, but it wouldn’t hurt having at least one friend? “Okay, we can be friends. Do you want to- oh.”
Mark could only stare at you who just fell face first into the dirt and into his backyard.
“I’m okay!” You exclaimed, springing back onto your feet and dusting yourself off.
“You’re kinda weird.” Mark commented.
“At least I’m not grumpy like you.” You thought back to the times you’ve seen him before. When you moved in, you had spotted him. On your way to school you saw him. And it was clear as day he wasn’t the sociable type, more like his dad than his mom. “Come on, let’s do something! I have so many ideas.” You grabbed his hand, walking around his yard for the first time.
From that moment on, you two were what was considered best friends. Each other’s only friends, but still best friends nonetheless.
Your days would be spent with only each other. You two would make capes and masks together, and then get yelled at by your mother for messing up her sheets and getting them dirty. When Mark would come over to your house, you’d show off your superhero action figures, which were a mix of bought and handmade. The both of you would also watch superhero moves together, beg which ever parent was watching over you two to let you guys stay up longer, and then fall asleep in less than ten minutes, resting on top of each other.
But even as you two grew closer, Mark made sure to keep that his father had powers and that he would (hopefully) eventually get powers, a secret. After all his dad told him that as long as he didn’t tell you the truth, he could continue being friends with you. And he would do anything to still be with you.
In fact, Mark seemed to care about you a lot when you were kids. Maybe it was because you were his only friend, or maybe it was because of something deeper than that.
The first clear sign was when you two were playing in your backyard instead of his.
You had brought him over to ‘show him something cool.’ The last thing he was expecting was an ant hill with thousands of tiny ants scurrying around. He couldn’t understand it. They were just ants. They only lasted for a few weeks before dying, and that’s if they die naturally. They couldn’t produce thoughts like you and he could or advance as a society. So insignificant, and yet you were enamored.
You crouched down, letting one of the ants crawl on top of your finger, which you brought close to yours and Mark’s face.
“You know what my dad told me? He said that ants have their skeleton on the outside. Isn’t that crazy?” You looked up at him with an expectant smile, though deep down you knew he could never be as excited over an animal’s anatomy like you.
You moved your hand and arm around, keeping your eye on the ant which was running around your forearm. “I wonder how deep their colony is. Their queen is probably- Ow!” You winced and flinched at the sudden feeling of the ant biting into your skin.
Mark’s eyes widened at the sound of your pain. His hand reached out and wrapped around your arm, crushing the ant that bit you in an instant, and his heel immediately smashing into the ant hill and angrily digging into it, causing the lines of ants to turn into frantic chaos.
“Mark! Stop!” You took a hold of him and pulled him back. Both of you fell to the ground.
“Why would you do that?” You both asked each other in union. Your tone upset while your friend’s tone was frustrated.
“That ant hurt you.” Mark spoke first. “I’m not just going to let it go free after doing that. It and its friends deserved it.” His eyes stared daggers into the destroyed ant hill. “They’re weak anyways.”
“That doesn’t matter.” You frowned. “It was probably just scared or something. It didn’t know any better.” You also looked at the remains of the ant hill but with a more solemn expression, which Mark couldn’t help but notice.
If it were any other scenario, Mark would’ve just left it, no remorse, no regret. The world was survival of the fittest, that was what his father told him anyways.
But with you around, it was different. The sight of you sitting up and holding your knees up to your chest. The sight of you just about to burst into tears, for some reason. Was too much for him.
“I’m sorry.” Mark remembered that his mom told him that was what people say when they make someone feel bad. “We can… rebuild the hill or something.”
You sniffed and rubbed your nose. “Okay.”
As the two of you built the highest hill possible, your smile slowly grew back, giving Mark a sense of relief. As long as you were happy, he was happy. You were his only connection to human life rather than his viltrumite heritage. So it wasn’t surprising he’d mirror you in some ways.
Life was good with you in it. You were like a ray of sunshine he never knew he needed. Things just felt so light with you compared to with his father. Especially when you laughed. Like how you did when he covered himself in duct tape and called himself duct tape man. You, being the good friend you were, stayed with him while his mom carefully removed it from his sensitive skin.
Mark missed those days. Where his only concerns were finishing the food he didn’t like and if you were okay. Now… it was conquering worlds for the viltrumite empire. He understood it was his duty though, his responsibility as a viltrumite. That was just how it was.
Mark opened his eyes at the call of his name and sat up immediately.
His father stood before him. “It’s time.”
Though short, those simple words were more than enough for Mark to understand what was going on.
He was finally going to return to Earth. To you.
“I understand, Father.” He nodded, standing up, his hands behind his back.
“I’ll be waiting outside.” Nolan said before disappearing in an instant.
Mark peeked his head out of his door, looking left and right before going back in and locking it. He looks around his room one more time, just for the feeling of reassurance. Mark crouched to the floor and reached under his bed, pressing a specific tile. A small cube shaped container rose. Mark grabbed the dear object and sat on his bed, examining the item.
A small action figure. Perfect condition, at least the same condition from when he got it. From you to him.
“You’re moving?” You stood at the front door that Mark opened after your constant knocking. “How come you didn’t tell me?” Your tone heartbroken. Who knew finally getting his powers would lead to this.
“I didn’t know how to.” Mark’s voice was quiet. He wanted to tell you the truth at that moment more than any other.
“Will we still be able to play together?”
“… I don’t think so.” How could he still play with you if he was light years away in another planet?
“I’ll miss you.” Your voice cracked. You had tried not to cry but at that point you couldn’t help yourself. You stepped forward and hugged him tight, which Mark reciprocated after settling into it.
“I’ll miss you too.” Mark muttered into your shoulder.
You backed off him and shoved something into his hands. It was an action figure of you two’s favorite superhero from your guy’s favorite show. He hadn’t noticed you holding onto it until that moment.
“I want you to keep this. Use and make other friends, but don’t forget about me, okay?” You wiped away your tears with your sleeve. “And when we see each other again when we’re older, you can give it back to me, and we can play together forever.”
Mark looked down at the toy in his hand and then looked up at you. “Forever?”
You nodded aggressively. “Forever. I promise.” You put on your best smile, the spots where you used to be missing teeth finally filled in with your adult ones.
“Y/n?” Your mom calling your name made your head perk up.
“Y/n?” She said before spotting you. Your mom sighed, walking towards you and gently grabbing your arm. “You shouldn’t be bothering them right now. They’re in a rush. Tell him goodbye and go home.”
Your expression turned sad before becoming confident again. “I’ll see you later, Mark.” You were able to say before being dragged away by your mom. “Bye!” You waved your hand to which Mark, less energetically, waved his as well.
That was the last time he saw you.
His thumb rubbed against the arm of the toy, his eyes focused. Mark was going to fulfill his promise to you no matter what.
After quickly dressing in his attire, Mark joined his father’s side, who was looking over space. They only exchanged a quick nod before flying into the vast galaxy.
And before he knew it, Mark had finally made it back to Earth. He had thought about returning one day, visiting you. But under the threat of his father finding out, and even worse, doing something to you for making him weak, kept him away.
Mark looked over the busy highways and tall skyscrapers as far as he could see. He could hear the sound of the trees bristling against each other from the wind. He took a deep breath in, the air also making his hair sway side to side, and exhaled.
“Mark.”
“Yes, Father?”
“I thought I told you to throw that trash away. It’s holding you back.” Nolan didn’t even bother to look at the item in his son’s hand. He already knew damn well what it was.
Mark’s hand defensively held onto it, his grip tightening, and kept it out of his father’s sight best he could. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Nolan only clicked his tongue. They had multiple arguments before about it. Why would something as small and as a useless toy mean so much to his son? But after years of fighting, it just wasn’t worth the effort anymore.
What was more important was the mission. That would always come first. To prepare Earth for viltrumite rule, quick and easy. All of those years of constant training wasn’t for nothing after all. And Mark didn’t survive his adulthood ceremony for nothing either.
The first step was dealing with the existing superhero teams. But aftering exterminating everyone in the Guardians of the Globe, everything was easy. Sure some people put up a fight, a few resistances here and there, but kill a few people and they’re quiet. No big deal.
They’ll eventually come around and understand what Mark and his father are doing. They’ll be grateful even. But at the moment, society would have to go through a rough patch.
Mark gazed over the fallen buildings, the fires, listening to sounds of the flames crackling and popping. His fist clenched, crimson blood dripping off of it. Even after being back on Earth, Mark still hadn’t had a single moment to visit his old home as he was still under the intense watch of his father. He had a feeling his father was in fact trying to keep him away from it.
But Mark never spoke up about it. How could he? A good son never questions his father.
“Mark.”
He turned his head around and looked up to see his father slowly descending from the sky.
“I trust you can handle the rest of this?” Nolan gestured his hand at the land beneath them.
His eyes widened but he quickly returned to a neutral expression. “Yes, Father.” Mark straightened his posture and bow his head down. “It would be an honor.”
“I’ll return in a few months then. Make Argall proud, Mark.” Nolan said before shooting into the sky, disappearing beyond the clouds. A gust of wind blew back Mark’s hair.
Mark couldn’t help but feel a little bit surprised. Did his father really just allow him to carry out the mission by himself. He supposed all of that being on his best behavior and obedience really did paid off.
“Just finish the mission.” Mark repeated to himself under his breath as he flew. He looked down and then stopped. When did he start head to his old home?
He looked around once more. There was no mistaking it. This was the old city he used to live in, just extremely destroyed and burning. He guessed his father got to it before he did.
Mark lowered himself back to the ground, gracefully stepping onto the concrete. The memories were starting to fill his head. The time you two would run along the sidewalks as your mother scolded you two to not be so close to the road.
A faint smile creeped onto his face before vanishing at the sound of a terrified man. Probably some high ranking company man based off the suit and tie, and the fact that he was yapping about money for some reason. What use would Mark have for that?
With each step he took forward, the man stepped back until his back was met with a wall.
“You.” Mark paused, asking himself if this was what he should be doing. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you, and yet he did. “Do you know someone with the name, Y/n L/n?”
The man, fearing for his life, stuttered. “W-what? Who?” He then realized this might be his only chance at living. “I mean, yeah! I know who you’re talking about my mistake.”
Mark’s brows furrowed as he watched him lie straight through his teeth. Did this man think he was an idiot?
“You’re wasting my time.” Mark’s hand extended in a flash, puncturing into the man’s stomach, and retracted. He flicked the blood off of his hand, an annoyed look on his face.
Not only was he mad at the man for attempting to trick him, but also at himself, for letting himself still be so affected by you. He wasn’t even sure if you were in this area anymore. And even worse, if you were still alive. You were always the weaker one of you two. So who knows if you even made it past day one of his and his father’s arrival.
The thought of you dead extremely upset him. Ruined his whole day. But as long as he never encountered your dead body, Mark would still have a sliver of hope in his heart.
Mark would of course still carry out the mission… but a small side goal wouldn’t change anything right?
Mark pushed off of the ground, rising into the air once more.
But he’s wasn’t sure what to do. What if you moved away while he was gone all of those years? He had no idea where to start looking? Plus, what did you even look like? Obviously, you must’ve grown since he last saw you, but how in the world was he supposed to recognize you?
He shook his head.
He had no right considering himself your best friend if he couldn’t tell you apart from some randoms. So each time he found a large group of people, before killing them, Mark would carefully examine each person’s face.
Mark landed in front of what was left of some college or university building and sat on a surviving bench, burying his head in his hands. His feelings were a mix of frustration, anger, and despair. He had been looking for you for the past three days, and there was still no sign of you anywhere.
He knew what his father would say if he saw him in his current state. Idiotic and pathetic. For both being so attached to you and for being on the verge of giving up.
Maybe if he carried out the mission with all of his effort, he could forget about you and finally let go of his lingering desire for you. Mark leaned back, his face towards the sun and his eyes shut.
Which country should he target first? Maybe he could check out that one country you mentioned you wanted to go to.
Then he heard it. A cough. A shuffle against some rubble. His head snapped towards the source of the noise.
A hand emerged from a pile of wreckage, pushing the ruins to the side. After a few minutes of struggle, the person finally emerged from the debris.
It was you.
Mark rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t just imagining it. He couldn’t believe it, but at the same time he did. Mark felt a sense of relief and a fill in his heart that he couldn’t describe. His body didn’t even move an inch. All he could was watch you from afar like he was afraid of ruining the moment or that you would disappear again.
“Come on, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” You mumbled quietly, lifting a cat close to your chest. Mark smiled at the fact you still cared so much about animals. Though he didn’t understand it, it was endearing to him for some reason.
You used your body to shove aside the broken pieces, wincing as you did so. Mark then noticed the tattered cuts all over your body, the torn pieces of your jacket and pants, the bruises and dried up blood.
He frowned.
You seemed so fragile, so close to the edge of breaking.
But no matter. He was there. He could fix you.
Finally making it out of the rubble, you started limping in some direction, which was when Mark decided that he had observed you enough.
He might’ve been a little too excited and flown to you too fast though. The momentum literally made you fall again, causing you to let go of the cat. You saw it run away before turning around and finally facing him.
Mark knew you wouldn’t have the same happy expression as you did when you two were kids when you’d see him for the first time in forever. But it still hurt a little, seeing your eyes filled with fear and your chest quickly rising and falling.
Neither of you said anything for a moment.
Mark was the first to break the silence. “Y/n?” His tone too gentle for someone who killed thousands upon thousands.
“How do you know my name?” You spat, your body too tired and sore to stand. All you could do was shove your palms into the ground and move back inch by inch.
It pained him that you didn’t recognize him. Maybe you were just disoriented since Mark could sense your heart beating rapidly. Or maybe you were scared of him?
“I’m not going to kill you.”
You looked up, confused. Was he toying with you? You knew he was some apathetic murderer, based on what you saw on tv and the aftermath you witnessed yourself. But you didn’t think he would be so sadistic to mess with his victims before killing them.
Mark couldn’t take the hateful glare in your eyes a second longer. “I could never hurt my best friend.”
You weren’t given another second to think or process what he just said to you as he suddenly appeared face to face with you, crouching.
Maybe it was the fact that you had a massive headache, hadn’t eaten for a while, or something, but the look on face in front of you almost seemed… desperate. He wanted something from you, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly he wanted.
You then took a closer look into his eyes. Something was just so familiar, but why?
“… Mark?” Your tone shocked, like you were in disbelief while also finding it ridiculous. There was just no way. No way that your childhood best friend who moved away came back as some powerful alien hell bent on conquering Earth.
Maybe you were on something and just didn’t know it.
You felt a hesitant hand upon your cheek.
Mark’s once concerned expression changed into a relaxed one. “I’m glad you didn’t forget me, because I never forgot you. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.” He carefully moved your hair out of your face. His other hand caressed your arm, which was covered in scrapes but had one noticeable slash running down your arm, improperly bandaged with a spare piece of fabric. “You’re badly injured. You need aid.”
“Oh really?” For the first time ever, you hated your natural sarcasm.
You thought he was going to punch your head off but instead he just looked at you. “Hold onto me.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you to fall.”
“Wh-”
Mark grabbed you and shot up into the sky. So you instantly wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes. “Mark! What the fuck!”
“What’s wrong?”
You refused to open your eyes, but you could tell you two were probably hundreds of feet in the air. So that was what he meant by ‘didn’t want to drop you.’
Just too much was happening all at once.
While you were experiencing the worst anxiety ever, Mark’s heart beat a little faster at how close you two were. Should he have been feeling that way? No, never. Was he still going to anyways? Yeah…
Mark looks around in all directions. He wanted to bring you to viltrum and get you healed in no time by their superior health technology, but since you were a human, that would be impossible. And he wasn’t experienced in medicine being raised as a warrior. So Mark made the only choice he could.
He flew in the direction of the last resistance he saw. They would have things that you need. And if they didn’t, he’d just get rid of them all.
You felt the wind against your back, every single sound drowned out by it. Luckily, it only took a few seconds for you to feel the ground beneath your feet again. You opened one of your eyes, trying to look around.
It seemed like some sort of hideout. You were happy for the people who were able to form safety groups. However, you hadn’t been so luckily. Alone since day one.
“What are we doing here?” You tried moving but Mark’s arms wouldn’t budge.
“To get you help.” Mark suddenly hooked his arm under your knees and his other arm on your back. Was he seriously caring you bridal style?
Mark casually walked into the base where people wanted him dead. A lot of them were fully ready to shoot him, but stopped at the sight of you in his arms.
If his memory was correct, this was the resistance with the leader who had powers, something to do with atoms? She actually put up a better fight than most others, but still not enough to defeat him.
Mark stood there, right in the middle, completely silent, until Eve came out.
Mark’s head tilted up. “Mend his wounds, and I won’t kill everyone in this building right now.” His head then lowered. “Try anything, and I’ll make yours and everyone else’s death as slow as possible.”
Eve, knowing better than to question him at the moment, called over the most qualified to help you out while keeping a close eye on him. “Fine.”
Mark gradually put you down as if you’d shatter in an instant and let go of you, who looked back and forth between him and the others as you walked forward. You were guided to sit down on one of those plastic chairs you’d usually see at family gatherings.
Eve walked over to you, looking over her shoulder at Mark and then turned back to you. “Sorry, but I have so many questions. Are you alright? How are you still alive?”
You glanced down at some person’s hands untying the fabric wrapped around your arm. “I wondering the same thing.” You let out a small laugh.
You two kept your voices low, which partially upset Mark but he brushed it off. Instead, he spent his time glaring at anyone who dared to look at him.
“But uh, I think maybe he hasn’t killed me yet because we were friends when we were kids? But he moved away. I had no idea he would return like this though.” You scratched your neck with your free hand.
“Yeah, how could you?” Eve replied. “Okay, brace yourself. This part is going to sting a lot.” She placed a firm grip on your shoulder.
You nodded, mentally preparing yourself, but you still flinched at the burning sensation and biting your tongue.
You then felt a strong gust of wind and blinked.
“Mark!” You shouted, making him stop his tracks. You opened your eyes to see him holding onto the person’s head from behind, just about to crush their skull.
You looked at the person’s terrified face, their body frozen in place. You looked up at Mark with disappointment.
“They’re just disinfecting the cut. Let them go.” As scared as you were, you made sure to keep your tone authoritative.
Mark only grunted in response before releasing them.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief in unison.
“We’re almost done.” Eve said, loud enough for both you and Mark to hear. She held out her hand over your scar. A pink light appeared and then materialized into stitches. You couldn’t help but feel amazed, that childhood love of superhero’s never truly went away.
Once her hand moved away, you gave your arm a test, straightening and bending it.
“Thanks.” You gave Eve and the others your best smile. You looked past them at Mark who seemed to be growing more impatient by the moment. You knew staying there for a second longer was too risky.
You stood up, struggling a little. “They did their part, Mark. Let’s leave them all alone now.” You held onto his arm when you reached his side. The sooner you two leave, the safer those people would be.
Mark hugged you tight, just like before, and shot into the sky again.
It felt amazing having you in his arms again. It was like he found the last missing part of him. And now, there was nothing in your guy’s way, nothing separating you two anymore. Overjoyed would be an understatement to describe Mark. But when he looked down at your face, you didn’t seem to feel the same.
“Did I do something to make you sad, Y/n?” Mark stopped, bringing his hand under your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”
You sighed. “Well, my entire city and home have been destroyed, and the world is in chaos right now. So yeah, I’m a little upset at you.” You said in the politest way possible. “I don’t want to be conquered by aliens. I just wanted to start college and hate my classes. You know, live a normal life.”
“I can give you a better life though. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll stop at nothing for you.” Mark pouted, the same way he did as a kid, realizing that his words didn’t get rid of the dark cloud looming over you.
An idea popped into his mind.
Mark changed his course, flying in some other direction.
“Mark, where are you taking me?” You asked flatly.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
You stood in confusion when Mark placed you down in front of an ice cream shop.
He hovered close to the ground. “Do you remember this place?”
Your eyes squinted as you read what was remaining of the shop name. “Wait… I do. This was the ice cream place we used to go to every summer.”
“Exactly.” Mark stepped onto the ground and took your hand, leading you forward. “Eating it always seemed to make you happy and you’d smile a lot. I want to see you smile again.”
“That’s… very sweet of you?” You walked through the space where a door should’ve been. The shop wasn’t in horrible condition, but it had definitely seen better days. Some of the lights were busted, some chairs knocked over, and the large windows had become just piles of shattered glass on the floor.
“Come on out now.” Mark moved towards the counter. “I can hear your heartbeat.” Each passing second only made Mark more irritated.
A worker stepped out from the back of the shop, his hands up and shaking. You guessed he must’ve been looking for resources or hiding. Poor him.
“What would you like, Y/n?” Mark glanced up at the menu. “We can share. Just like when we were younger.”
Playing along with him seemed to have worked since the moment he found you, and it seemed like that only thing you were able to do.
“I guess, can we get a number seven? With those flavors?” You pointed down at the ice cream tubs. Almost everything was running on backup power, so to everyone’s luck, things would play out normally.
The guy looked at you with a panicked expression, wondering what the hell was going on, to which you just mouthed ‘Just do it.’
The worker cleared his throat. “Yeah, I can for sure do that for you guys. Just give me a minute.” He lowered his hands, getting to work instantly.
“Come on, we can sit and wait. Over…” Your eyes scanned over the room. “There.” You proceeded to shove yourself into a booth. Mark followed and sat beside you, just a little bit closer than he should’ve.
“So…” You propped yourself with your elbows on the table. “Where have you been for these past years? Never thought I’d see you again.” You couldn’t forget that it was still your childhood best friend you were talking to. There were just so many things you wanted to know, beyond why he wanted to dominate the planet.
“In my duration of knowing you, I had lied to you. My father was a viltrumite, and my mother was a human. But due to the genetic dominance of viltrumite genes, I am close to being a pure blooded viltrumite. So when I ‘moved away,’ I was returning to the planet, Viltrum, for training with my just gained powers.” Mark felt a heavy weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He was finally able to tell you the truth, the full truth.
“So let me get this straight. You’re an alien who looks really human, but you can fly, move at high speeds, and have super strength pretty much?” You listed his abilities off of your fingers.
Mark nodded. “Correct.”
“Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes or something?”
“That would be ridiculous.”
“Right.” You sighed. “And I used to think you were just some regular human kid like me. Way to make me feel like a literally powerless loser.” You playfully scoffed and crossed your arms.
“Why does that matter?” Mark raised an eyebrow.
“Well, it doesn’t, but it also doesn’t change the fact that you can fly and stuff, and I can’t.” You observed Mark’s face, sharper and more defined than ever. He had that same pushed back hair style from when he was younger and the same dark brown eyes. So everything from the neck up would be what you’d expect, but everything under… definitely not. His clothes were pure white, but stained with blood. And why was he so toned? Did viltrumite clothing just give off that look? Or did the clothes just extenuate each and every muscle on his body? It felt wrong to admit, but Mark was scarily close to your type…
“Y/n?”
“Huh, what?” Your eyes shot back up.
“There something I need to return to you.” Mark placed something on the table and slid it towards you.
“What are you talking… no way.” You took a hold the old action figure and brought it closer to your face. “You kept it all this time? I thought you would’ve thrown it away.”
“I would never.”
You looked at him, surprised at how serious he seemed about it. You nearly forgot you had given him the figure of your favorite character. As you got older, that superhero obsession slowly died down, and you matured. You were pretty sure those toys you had as a kid were stashed away in a box in some storage unit after you moved for college.
“I don’t understand though.” You bent the toys limbs like you were checking its quality, which you were impressed by. “Why would you keep it?”
“Our promise. I have no interest in still playing with toys, but I still want to spent the rest of my time with you.”
You choked on air. “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to marry me or something.”
“What’s that? I already told you I wasn’t going to kill you.” Mark leaned back into the seat cushion.
You placed the toy back onto the table. “You actually don’t know what marriage is?” If it were any other situation, you would’ve laughed out loud. In this case, you still laughed, but only a little.
Mark’s blank stare was more than enough of an answer for you.
“It’s basically when two people make vows and like promise to love each other until death.”
“Hm. How strange.” Mark brought his had to his chin. “Should we get married then?”
You blinked. “What?”
“Your ice cream is ready.” The worker, to be honest you had forgotten about, presented your order with two spoons.
“Ah thanks.” You noticed the man’s hands shaking, nearly dropping the ice cream. He was clearly fearing for his life, and Mark’s intense scowl didn’t help in the slightest.
Mark looked at you and then back at him. “Now leave. I’ll only spare you this once.” He gave a dismissive hand gesture.
That guy ran right out of there as fast as humanly possible.
You relaxed once the worker was out of sight. You then gazed down at the dessert. You had ordered what you used to always get with Mark, since you never were able to finish it on your own but wanted it badly. You couldn’t even recall the last time you had eaten it. You would have really enjoyed eating your former favorite treat if the circumstances were different.
You tried to use the spoon the scoop some up but then the pressure of moving your arm like that painful, forcing you to drop it.
You cursed under your breath.
Mark watched your struggle, and then picked up the other spoon himself. “I’ll feed you it.” His casual tone was just going to kill you.
“Mark, no. You’re not feeding me ice cream. Mark. I’m not your girlfriend.” You turned your head away from him, avoiding the spoon pointed at your face.
“Of course not, you’re my boyfriend.”
“I don’t think you know what that word means.”
“I know what it means. You’re a boy, and you’re my friend. Now stay still.” Mark inched closer to you.
You pushed your hands against his chest. “I’m not staying still. I-” Mark accidentally got some of the ice cream on your cheek, right next to your mouth.
“Damn it, do you think there’s any napkins here?” You half jokingly asked.
“No need.” You felt Mark’s hand grab your jaw, and his tongue against your skin, dangerously close to your lips. Your cheeks flushed, and a heat ran up your neck.
You were at a loss of words. You immediately backed away, wiping away the spot with the back of your hand. “What the fuck, Mark! Did you just lick me?”
“Yes, but you’re clean now.” Mark took a bite of the ice cream with the same spoon he was just trying to feed you with, then took another scoop and pointed it towards you. “Eat it before it melts.”
There was just no winning with this guy. “… Fine.”
For the next thirty minutes, you sat there, begrudgingly being spoon fed by your childhood best friend. Sure, it tasted amazing but that was besides the point.
As you ate, you started to think a little bit harder on how Mark acted towards you. How touchy he was towards you, how he treated you like you were the only thing that mattered to him, how he licked you like it was nothing. Everything the two of you did was just a little too intimate for being best buddies. It was almost as if he liked you more than a friend…
You quickly switched topics in your mind. Now, you were on your phone while Mark was trying to find somewhere to dispose your guy’s trash, after you had scolded him for saying to leave it there.
You texted your few friends and your family, assuring them you were okay and asking if they were okay. And while you waited for their response, you scrolled through your social medias, finding out new information every second. You saw people posting videos of their experience so far, people theorizing what in the world was going on, and people trying to figure out what to do now that Earth was in shambles.
You weren’t all too sure what to do either. Yes, you did basically have special privileges for some reason, but it was like walking on egg shells around Mark now. What would happened if you pissed him off? Pushed him to the limit without knowing it?
“What are you doing?”
You jumped in your seat at Mark’s sudden appearance. “I’m just scrolling. I’m surprised the service still works actually. Ah fuck.” You stared at the black screen with the symbol of the battery empty.
“And I left my stuff at home…”
“I can take you.”
“Oh yeah.”
You felt exhausted anyways, even after consuming all of that sugar. Your whole body still felt like it was on alert, and all you wanted was to lie in your heavenly bed again.
You had finally gotten used to just holding onto Mark as tight as possible and zone out while he was flying. Luckily, your house was pretty close. And even more surprisingly, still standing. It actually seemed untouched? The only defining thing was the your parent’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway. It gave you a little hope they were alright.
You stopped walking once you reached the front door. “Where’d I put my keys?… Don’t break the door open, Mark.”
Mark lowered his fist. “It would be more efficient if I did though.”
“For a moment. And then next thing you know my house is being broken into by strangers.” You shoved your key into the lock.
“You say that as if I couldn’t defeat them all.”
You pushed the door open. “Even so, I just don’t want that to happen. Come on.” You motioned your hand back and forth, signaling for him to follow you.
He hovered closely behind you.
As you were taking off your shoes and setting them close to the door, Mark examined the house he hadn’t been in for years. Not too much was different, just some new furniture and new photos decorated around the living room.
Mark picked up a random picture frame from the shelf under the tv. It was a photo of you (He partially smiled) and some other guy (He frowned). It seemed like a fairly recent picture. You were wearing a suit and tie, and standing close enough to the other guy to make Mark’s blood boil. Why was that guy’s arm around your shoulder?
“What’s this?” Mark presented the frame to you.
“Ugh, I told them to get rid of it.” You muttered, your brows furrowed. “That’s a picture of me and my ex-boyfriend at our senior prom. We broke up about a year ago. I guess my parents just forgot to throw it away.”
“Ex boyfriend?” He raised a brow.
“Means I used to like him romantically, but not anymore… I don’t wanna talk about it.” You looked down.
Your upset tone and expression was more than enough for Mark to already hate the guy.
“You don’t need to.” Mark squeezed the picture frame until it broke, the wood splitting and the glass shattering. And then tore up the image faster than the eye could see. He did it for you of course, but also maybe a little for himself.
You were already half way up the stairs, mumbling something about being tired. Mark naturally returned to your side, unsettlingly quiet.
You entered your room, still the same as you left it. After looking around for a bit, you found your charger and plugged your phone. You internally celebrated seeing it charging.
You looked down upon your clothes, if you would even consider them that anymore. Maybe you could look for a sewing kit later. And they definitely needed a wash too. From how much Mark was clinging onto you, the blood on him stained your clothes. And not to mention the dirt you had accumulated yourself from your little adventures.
You unzipped your jacket and threw it onto your chair. “I’m going to change.” You dug though your clean clothes, not bothering to look over at Mark.
“Okay.”
…
You turned around. “Are you going to get out?”
“Why would I need to? We have the same anatomy.”
“That’s not the issue.” You grabbed a random pillow and threw it at Mark who caught it with ease. “I just don’t want you looking, okay?”
“You humans are so weird. Feeling embarrassed about body parts.” Mark faced the wall, bringing the pillow to his face.
“I think you’re the weird one for being okay with seeing me near naked.” You said as you changed into clean and comfortable clothes. “Okay I’m done.”
You collapsed onto your bed, letting out a sigh. The coldness of the blanket and sheets were just right. Did your bed always feel this good? You opened one of your eyes and sat up.
“Mark, you are not lying in my bed. Back up, right now.” You held your hand out in front of him. “You have blood all over you. It’s a miracle it hasn’t gotten on the floors.”
Mark took a single step back. “But I want to join you. It’ll be like our sleepovers.”
You sighed dramatically before getting up and walking to your closet. “I’ll look for something for you to borrow.”
“Alright.”
“There’s gotta be something your size.” You pushed hanger after hanger. If Mark were any of your other friends, you’d have no problem finding something of yours for them to wear. But for someone with a body like Mark… it was difficult. You finally managed to find a basic large white shirt and gray sweatpants.
“Here, you can wear-” Your eyes were met with the sight of Mark shirtless and just about to undo his pants. Your head whipped around before you could see anymore. So without looking, you extended your hand holding the clothes towards him.
“Give a guy a warning next time dude!” You covered your face with your hands and faced the wall, not only to look away but to also hide how flustered you were.
“But I don’t mind if you saw me.” Mark bluntly stated. He truly did not understand why you were care so much about seeing each other’s bodies. Feeling embarrassment was a weakness after all.
“Well I mind, so just changed already.”
“I did.”
“So you can change into clothes that fast, but not out of clothes that fast?” You looked over at his nested folded pile of clothes on the floor, and then back at him. He actually looked like a regular guy you’d see in a class or in a hallway. So that’s what would’ve been if he was human.
You fell onto your bed again, shifting around to find the best position. You laid on your side, facing the wall. You heard the sound of shuffling behind you and then felt a warm presence against your back, an arm around your waist, and… was he nuzzling into your neck?
“Mark… what are you doing?” You laid there, frozen in place. You were too tired at that point to push him off.
“I’m not sure. It just felt right.” Mark’s face was against your neck, making you feel each breath as he spoke. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt extremely comfortable with Mark hugging onto you like that. And you were already so exhausted. Maybe letting him cuddle you this once wouldn’t hurt?
“No, you’re fine. Just don’t make it weird I guess.” You shut your eyes, moving around again.
“I missed you so much, Y/n.” Mark held onto you tighter.
“… I missed you too, Mark.”
Note: I did it guys. I finally finished this. Idk what the word count as I’m writing this but I know it’s at least 5k words which is crazy. But anyways I just wanted to say I’m so grateful for all of my followers and especially you guys who ask me questions or like request cuz I just love talking to people.
I hope that the anon who requested this prompt liked what I made. I lowkey went a bit crazy. Sorry the ideas just kept on flowing to me. ALSO, I’m always opened to requests for Mark Grayson that fine ass man. OMG I NEED HIM… okay. Calm down.
And if there’s any typos or like weirdly worded sentences… just ignore it… PLEASE
*ੈ𝄞 HEADCANONS; Viltrumite husband!Conquest x fem reader :: how easy it is for you to have the most loyal viltrumite to the empire as your provider man :: possibly an out-of-character Conquest.
꒷꒦ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 + 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀: english isn’t my first language, so i use Google translate to help with my posts due to my limited proficiency, please bear with me.
Human, fragile, ephemeral and insignificant by any viltrumite standard... what stood out about you was how smart you are, you helped Mark and Oliver in their encounter and fight with the boys. He was very upset that a simple human gave him some of his own medicine. But still, when he met you at his lowest point, you were the only thing that didn't fit into any logic. Since it was possible for you to survive his blows, Conquest doesn't try to understand him too much. Just act accordingly: if you are weak, but resilient, then he will be all you lack.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ He would leave the land and Nolan's children alone, as long as you agreed to be her partner, doesn't care much if the boys stand in the way of such an option, because she knows very well that you are a smart girl and that you will accept what is convenient for the best. So he's not surprised when you say yes.
What happened was strange and very out of place, but in the end they managed to maintain a good relationship with each other, with you being his wife both on Earth and in the empire. Not everyone agreed, but with Conquest there was no turning back. They had to accept the demands of their best soldier.
Officially you are the wife of a conqueror of planets, a very faithful one. Your alien and super strong husband never lets you touch the ground if he thinks you might get tired. It's ridiculous, exaggerated, but natural for him. He carries you without asking, he accommodates you where he wants, he moves you as if you were something precious that should not be worn out by things as mundane as walking too much.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Your environment changes completely since you are with him. Nothing is 'half-done'. All you have is the best that can exist on and off Earth, not because of human luxury, but because he doesn't tolerate the idea that you live on less than you deserve by his standard.
Conquest doesn't know how to pamper you gently. His is absolute. If you mention something you like, it doesn't get you one. It gets you all. If something about his attitude makes you uncomfortable, he disappears from the world without discussion. There's no middle ground with Conquest. He is willing to understand his beautiful wife, he is willing to turn to Nolan to understand what he lacks to be a perfect husband.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ With you, his voice drops just a little. It is not tenderness as such, but there is a clear care in how it speaks to you. As if he understands that you are easier to break, not only physically, but in ways that he doesn't yet fully understand. It becomes absurdly attentive to your human needs. Temperature, rest, food, things that are irrelevant to him, but that he treats with you as priorities.
Your well-being is not a luxury; It is a constant mission. He likes to see you comfortable. He won't say it like that, but there is something in his expression, a smile, almost non-existent, that the few who dare to look at him closely would say. When he sees you relaxed, confident, surrounded by everything that makes you feel good, it's the closest he'll get to satisfaction without being in combat. Even though you're human, he never treats you as inferior. He treats you as something to protect, respect, and worship. Your decisions, your words, even your whims, have a weight that no one else could have in front of him. Oliver and Mark secretly tease about it.
Your fragility is what fuels their dependency. Because the more obvious it is that you could hurt yourself, the stronger your need to keep you intact. Not like a possession, or pet. If not like the balance of a growing rose. Sometimes, without realizing it, it becomes excessive. It doesn't let you do simple things, it intervenes too quickly, it removes obstacles that you didn't even consider problems.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Are you bitten by a mosquito? It will take care of eliminating each of them if you tell it. Do you want more days off? He will let Cecil know to let you rest more at home, or else he will kill each of his heroes and workers.
The house he built and designed for your comfort is something he brags about on BBQ days with his close 'friends'... Nolan and his children. He fills her with pride by showing her how spoiled and pampered he has for you, talks about all the beautiful things she will buy you in that app that Oliver taught her how to use. The boy refused at first, but accepted when there were some threats involved.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ It still takes a little bit of confidence for her to let you go out with Debbie and her friends, It's not distrust of you. It is an inability to tolerate any risk. When you get angry with him for that, he doesn't react with authority, but with something weirder: pause. He listens to you. Not because he thinks you're right about everything, but because your annoyance destabilizes him more than any enemy could. He doesn't like to see you angry, because he knows you'll send him to sleep in the living room if he goes on with the same thing.
It gets you used to a life where everything is figured out before you think about it. Where you never lack anything. Where there is always someone, he watching that nothing affects you. And he does it so constantly, that he stops seeming extraordinary, until you remember who he is.
In private, there are times when their need is more noticeable. It stays close, too close. A steady hand on your back, your waist, your arm, and your favorite, on your butt, doesn't do it to have some kind of dominance with you, but as an anchor. As if the simple contact confirms that you are still there. He doesn't see you as temporary, even though he knows you are. And that detail alters him in a way that he does not know how to handle. That's why it pampers you more. It protects you more. It gives you more. As if, somehow, i can make up for the fact that you're human.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ And yet, he never treats you like someone who's going to lose. To Conquest, you are his wife. It's priority. It's center. It doesn't matter if the universe says you're the most fragile; In their world, you're untouchable.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ 𝗔/𝗡; Yes, i have a few more scriptures about the invincible series, will publish them. By the way, because no one tells me if they like it or not, the things upload, i need to know if this is to their liking!
NOTE: fan art by @xiaoye12589 on x. This man is so fyneeee, if you ignore all the weird emotional parental and Viltrumite issues then he’s like perfect. I’ve lowky been sucked into the Invincible black hole. Also very ooc Nolan lol.
"Please, lie down."
You gently nudge Nolan, but he doesn't budge. He can't budge. Every bone in his body feels like it's been shattered and glued back together. You can see it, too. His face is a canvas of purple bruises and the scarlet red of his blood, along with an equally bloody gash across his nose.
Nolan always puts up a strong front, such is common with all Viltrumites. He always acts like nothing can touch him. But right now, he looks like a lost puppy, trying to keep his footing and failing miserably. He’s gritting his teeth, a low groan escaping his lips every time he tries to shift.
“Nolan, you are badly injured. You must rest,” you say, your voice cracking.
He winces, looking at you with eyes that seem a bit less intense than usual. He manages a small smile, but it’s twisted with pain.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mumbles, trying to wave off your concern.
But you know he’s lying. The way he’s leaning against the wall of your room, clutching his stomach, says it all. You can almost feel the aches and pains radiating from him. It breaks your heart to see him like this. Despite being a Viltrumite yourself, and going through the normal initiations of adulthood, you never did have the taste for bloodshed. You wish you could just take away his pain, carry it yourself.
"You are not fine, and you know it. Now lie down." Your voice is firmer this time, and you can see a hint of annoyance in his eyes.
"No, I don't want to. This is just proof that I am ready for adulthood."
"Your mother shouldn’t have been so… so aggressive." You can’t help the bit of temperament that creeps into your voice. You hate that his parents put him through this, hate that they force him to prove himself again and again.
“You are our batch’s finest fighter.” You praise him.
He sighs, a sound that seems to carry all the weight of the world. "You should understand. It is the Viltrumite way."
“I understand that you’re in pain. And I’m going to help you. Most partners wouldn’t even dare do what I am doing, so just do as I say.”
Finally, he gives in, slumping against you as you guide him to the bed. He lets out a loud groan as he lies down, and you can see the blood on his Viltrum uniform seep into your bedsheets.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible. It is very uncommon for a Viltrumite of his stature to speak such words, but ever since you’ve been together Nolan has started to open up his emotional barriers.
"For what? For being able to feel pain?" You're sitting on the edge of the bed now, running a hand through his hair.
He looks at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes. "For making you worry."
Your heart melts at his vulnerability. You lean down and kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his cheek. You can feel him relax under your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body.
You grab a cloth and a bowl of water, then get to work. You start with his face, gently wiping away the blood and dirt. He flinches at first, but then relaxes, letting you take care of him. You carefully clean the gash on his nose, then apply some ointment.
He will heal fast, you can already see the outer tissues of some smaller wounds stitch themselves back together.
You move to his chest, carefully removing the stained white clothes to reveal a massive bruise, and multiple open wounds that span the entire width of his chest. You run your hand over the bruise, wishing you could just smooth it away.
Nolan catches your eye, a small smile playing on his lips. "It looks worse than it feels."
You roll your eyes. "I highly doubt that." You start applying a soothing ointment to his chest, the cool gel providing a welcome relief.
“Not everyone has strange parents that refuse to initiate their child.” He spoke in a hissed tone from the ointments.
“My parents are different, yes, but I was still initiated. Left me with broken ribs.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Again, they aren’t as ruthless as yours, but as Viltrumites, strength is our goal.” You mumble.
“I’m glad they are not like mine. I for one could not bear to see you hurt.”
You spend the next hour cleaning and tending to his wounds. By the time you’re finished, he’s covered in bandages and looking like a mummy. But he looks better, less strained, more like the Nolan you know and love.
You climb into bed beside him, wrapping your arms around his uninjured side. He rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.
"For what?”
"For everything. For not leaving."
You squeeze him tight, burying your face in his hair. "I’m not going anywhere, Nolan. Never."
He lets out a small laugh, a sound that warms your entire being. "Good. Because I don’t think I could survive another day without you."
You smile into his hair, the worry of the day fading away. You may not be able to stop his parents from putting him through hell, but you can be there to pick up the pieces, to dote on his wounds, and to remind him that he is loved, imperfections and all.
