Marvel Rivals Self‑Aware AU: Roles
“Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for attending on such short notice,” Reed Richards addressed the crowded lab, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering what we’re about to discuss,” Tony Stark added, standing with his armor on—helmet tucked under one arm. “If you’re guessing it’s about our… strange case of branding, then congratulations. You’re right.”
A few uneasy glances were exchanged across the room.
Bruce Banner cleared his throat, adjusting his tie before stepping forward. He tapped at a data pad, and with a soft hum, a holographic display flickered to life in the center of the lab.
“As you know,” Bruce began, his voice measured, “the pocket dimension referred to as the ‘Heroes Screen’—as the Presence calls it—contains a series of glass enclosures, almost like display cases, each housing one of us.”
The hologram shifted, showing three indistinct silhouettes standing within tall, translucent boxes.
“While we’re still unsure of their full purpose beyond simple observation,” he continued, “we’ve noticed… a detail that may not be as insignificant as it first appeared.”
A photograph—one Tony Stark had managed to capture through his helmet’s HUD during their last visit—appeared above them. Most had expected the image to be distorted, blurred, or pixelated, as was typical when attempting to document unknown dimensions.
Instead, it was pristine.
Crisp. Sharp. Almost unnervingly perfect.
The implication settled over the room like a quiet weight.
Whatever that dimension was… it wasn’t trying to hide.
Bruce zoomed in on the lower right corner of one of the cases. The image sharpened further, revealing something small—but unmistakable.
A mark. A brand. Like a label on a store product.
Murmurs rippled through the lab, low and uneasy.
“Yes,” Reed stepped forward again, folding his hands behind his back. “These markings have drawn our attention for some time now. From what we’ve been able to gather—particularly during the rare moments when the Presence’s voice came through clearly—it appears that we’ve been… assigned roles within some kind of system. Each individual is given a distinct set of abilities depending on their designation.”
“What kind of roles?” Peni Parker asked, leaning forward with curiosity.
Bruce stepped back in, tapping his data pad once more.
“From what we can tell,” he said, “there are three primary classifications.”
Three holographic symbols appeared, hovering in the air. This time, they were clear—refined, unmistakable. The same markings they had seen before, now fully realized.
“Strategist—” Bruce gestured toward the first symbol: an open hand, gentle and inviting, as though offering guidance.
“Duelist—” The next symbol replaced it: a clenched fist, raised with defiance and determination.
“And finally… Vanguard.” The last symbol appeared: two arms crossed in an X, protective, unyielding.
A heavier silence followed this time.
“You said we get different abilities depending on the role,” Magik said bluntly, crossing her arms. “So what exactly do they do?”
“Excellent question!” Reed replied, clapping his hands together, that familiar spark lighting his eyes—the same one that appeared whenever his curiosity took hold.
He grabbed another data pad, fingers moving rapidly across its surface. The Duelist and Vanguard symbols flickered out, leaving only one hovering in the air.
Reed stepped closer to it, studying it like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
“Let’s begin with this one,” he said.
And just like that, the room leaned in.
Reed gestured toward the glowing symbol. “Strategists are individuals who primarily assist and support their teammates. Their main function appears to be restoring damage inflicted by opposing forces—though many also provide additional utility.”
He began pacing slightly, hands clasped behind his back as his voice gained momentum.
“Such enhancements include increasing damage output, granting temporary health, and even boosting mobility.”
Bruce Banner stepped in smoothly, adjusting his glasses as he continued, “And while they specialize in healing and support, several Strategists possess offensive capabilities—enough to defend themselves if necessary. Others rely on high mobility to avoid danger altogether.”
He gestured toward the back of the holographic formation. “Tactically speaking, they tend to remain behind the front lines. They’re… the backbone of the team.”
“We even went ahead and categorized who fits where,” Tony Stark chimed in, stepping forward with a grin that suggested he’d been waiting for this part. “Courtesy of those neat little symbols stamped on our glass cages.”
With a flick of his wrist, the hologram shifted—rows of faces appearing in a clean column.
Adam Warlock. Cloak and Dagger. Invisible Woman. Jeff the Land Shark. Luna Snow. Mantis. Rocket Raccoon. And… Ultron.
“Oh, please,” Loki scoffed loudly, throwing his arms out in dramatic offense. “Me? A Strategist? Why would I ever lower myself to playing nurse to a group of mortals?”
“Agreed,” Ultron droned coldly. “Repairing flawed organic matter is… beneath my intended purpose.”
“Why is Jeff a Strategist?!” Rocket barked, pointing accusingly at the small, happy land shark. “What’s he gonna do—heal people by… what, squirting them with water?!”
“Rocket,” Mantis said gently, tilting her head. “You are also categorized as a Strategist. Despite your… unconventional approach.”
“Yeah,” Rocket shot back immediately, crossing his arms. “And I flarkin’ hate it. I’m not some soft-hearted healer like you.”
Mantis only giggled, entirely unbothered. Supporting others had always come naturally to her—this role, at least, made sense.
Across the room, the reaction was… notably calmer.
“You’ve always used your light to heal people, Tandy,” Cloak said quietly, his voice steady as ever.
“That’s because I always have you watching my back, Ty,” Dagger replied with a warm smile.
Nearby, Invisible Woman raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I don’t quite see it,” she admitted. “My forcefields don’t exactly… heal anyone.”
“I mean, it kinda tracks,” Luna Snow said with a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “My ice-light powers do have healing properties. And if that’s not enough… well, I like to think my uplifting charm helps too.”
Sue let out a small chuckle at that.
“Well,” she said, folding her arms, “if that’s the logic they’re using, I suppose I can rise to the occasion.”
Adam Warlock remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the hologram. Healing with cosmic energy was nothing new to him—but something about the distribution unsettled him.
“Why are there so few Strategists?” he asked calmly, gesturing toward the list. “In any sustained conflict, one would expect a greater number of healers.”
Tony didn’t even hesitate.
“That sounds like the Presence’s problem,” he said bluntly with a shrug. “Guess they don’t think you guys are that important.”
A few people bristled at that.
“Anyway—moving on!” Tony added quickly, before anyone could start a debate.
With another flick, the hologram shifted.
The open hand vanished. Replaced by a symbol far less inviting— a clenched fist.
“Duelists are individuals designed to deal high amounts of damage and secure eliminations,” Tony Stark explained, gesturing casually toward the clenched-fist symbol. “They’re responsible for finding, engaging, and taking down opponents using heavily offensive abilities.”
“Most of their skill sets are self-focused—built to enhance their own performance. And yeah, they tend to have some pretty versatile mobility options too.”
Bruce Banner stepped in, speaking quickly as he adjusted his glasses. “Though their exact function can vary within the team. Some specialize in long-range damage, maintaining distance from the battlefield, while others are designed to dive directly into enemy lines—targeting vulnerable opponents and eliminating them before they can react.”
“And,” Tony added, clearly enjoying himself now, “this role has the largest roster by far.”
With a flick of his hand, the hologram expanded.
And he wasn’t exaggerating.
The list of Duelists lit up the room: Black Panther. Black Widow. Hawkeye. Hela. Human Torch. Iron Man. Iron Fist. Magik. Mr. Fantastic. Moon Knight. Namor. Psylocke. Scarlet Witch. Spider-Man. Squirrel Girl. Star-Lord. Storm. Punisher. Winter Soldier. Wolverine. A brief silence followed.
Then, compared to the Strategists— Far less outrage.
Black Panther gave a small, approving nod. “A king must also be a warrior for his people.”
Black Widow said nothing at first, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. It wasn’t a perfect label for her—her work was far more nuanced—but it wasn’t wrong either. Especially when Hawkeye leaned in and nudged her shoulder.
“Hey,” he grinned. “Matching roles.”
She rolled her eyes—but smiled back.
Hela smirked, clearly pleased. “Only fitting that the Queen of Hel deals in destruction rather than hiding behind others like a coward.”
Her gaze slid sideways toward Loki, who immediately glared in response.
“Aww, yeah! Duelist!” Johnny Storm whooped, igniting instantly and spinning midair in celebration. “I mean—duh! Of course that’s me!”
Tony looked just as satisfied, arms crossed confidently.
Iron Fist, on the other hand, accepted it with quiet certainty. It was the only role that truly fit him—his entire discipline built around direct combat. Psylocke seemed to share that sentiment, her expression calm but resolute. A lifetime of precision, stealth, and lethal efficiency… Duelist suited her perfectly.
Magik hummed softly, arms crossed. “I suppose it fits. Not like I’d choose anything else.”
Nearby, Reed stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t typically classify myself as a front-line combatant,” he admitted, “but there is value in… expanding one’s capabilities.”
Moon Knight gave a simple nod, entirely unfazed. This was nothing new to him.
No one particularly wanted to comment on Namor’s reaction.
Across the room, Scarlet Witch’s expression was far less certain. There was a flicker of unease in her eyes. Being labeled as something meant for destruction… it wasn’t something she welcomed.
Winter Soldier stood rigid, jaw tight. He didn’t argue it. Didn’t question it.
Of course that’s what they saw him as.
“Wow,” Spider-Man murmured under his breath, staring up at the list. “A Duelist… That’s—wow. That’s actually kind of amazing.”
“You bet it is!” Squirrel Girl beamed, punching his shoulder a little too enthusiastically.
“OW—okay, yeah, confirmed,” Peter winced, rubbing his arm with a laugh. “Duelist damage is real.”
Doreen nodded proudly. “Even the name sounds cool.”
“Right?” Peter grinned. “Duelist.”
“You bet it does, Spidey!” Star-Lord chimed in, voice crackling slightly through his mask. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Storm observed the symbol calmly, her posture regal as ever.
“Mm. A Duelist,” she mused. “Yes… that does seem appropriate.”
“You’ve always been the strongest of us, darlin’,” Wolverine added with a rough smirk.
Punisher let out a low scoff. “If I’m taking down criminals… yeah. That tracks.”
“I don’t know about that, my trigger-happy friend,” Tony cut in, raising a finger. “We’ve still got one more role to cover.”
His expression shifted—just slightly more serious. “And I’ve got a feeling it might suit you better.”
The hologram flickered once more.
The clenched fist vanished. Replaced by the final symbol—
“My own role—Vanguards—are individuals designed to operate on the front lines,” Bruce Banner explained, gesturing toward the final symbol. “They possess significantly higher durability, allowing them to endure sustained damage while creating space for the rest of the team.”
He paused briefly, making sure everyone was following.
“Their primary function is to hold ground, dismantle fortified positions, and absorb incoming attacks that would otherwise overwhelm their allies.”
The hologram shifted, showing defensive barriers, shockwaves, and bursts of energy.
“To increase survivability,” Bruce continued, “each Vanguard has access to at least one method of mitigating or blocking damage. The exact approach varies—some generate barriers to shield others, while others rely on augmenting their own durability through enhanced resilience or additional energy reserves.”
He tapped the screen again, and the projection showed clustered enemies being scattered. “Most also possess crowd-control capabilities. They can disrupt groups of enemies at close range—breaking formations, destabilizing positions, and creating openings for their team to exploit.”
Tony folded his arms, grinning.
“It’s basically the role for big, tough fighters,” Tony Stark added. “In other words—perfect for you, big guy.”
Punisher shot him a sharp glare.
Bruce cleared his throat quickly, stepping in before that could escalate.
“And… here are the identified Vanguards.”
The list appeared: Captain America. Doctor Strange. Emma Frost. Groot. Hulk. Magneto. Peni Parker. Thing. Thor. Venom.
“A Vanguard? Me?!” Emma Frost’s voice cut through the room instantly, sharp and offended. “Do I look like some kind of brute to you?”
Peni immediately stepped forward, hands raised in a panicked attempt to de-escalate. “I-I think it’s because of your diamond form!” she said quickly. “Y-you know, like how SP//dr is a big, durable mech, so that makes me a Vanguard even if I’m… well—me.”
Emma gave her a long look before scoffing and crossing her arms.
“In that case,” Doctor Strange added thoughtfully, glancing at his hands, “it would be the same principle with my shields and protective spells.”
Despite Emma’s protests, most of the room seemed… agreeable.
Captain America gave a firm nod.
“I swore to be a shield for my team,” he said simply. “Seems the Presence agrees.”
“I am Groot,” Groot said with a gentle smile.
Inside Bruce’s mind, Hulk was thrilled—practically roaring with approval at a role that perfectly aligned with smashing enemies and protecting the “puny ones.”
Bruce, meanwhile, just sighed quietly.
Magneto remained silent, his expression distant—thoughtful. There was a certain logic to it. Protection. Preservation. He had always fought to defend his kind… no matter the cost.
“Aha! Of course!” Thor laughed, lifting Mjolnir proudly. “The God of Thunder stands at the forefront of battle! A most fitting role!”
“You and me, pal,” Ben Grimm added with a wide grin, knocking his rocky fists together. “Clobberin’ time just got official.”
“It is…” Venom’s voice rumbled low, almost reluctant. “…adequate.”
“Alright, so,” Tony clapped his hands together, stepping back into the center. “Looks like most of us are on board with our assigned roles.”
He glanced sideways at Loki, who still looked deeply offended.
“Bah,” Loki scoffed, turning his nose up.
A few chuckles spread through the room, easing the tension just slightly.
Duelist. Vanguard. Strategist.
Assigned to them—whether they agreed with them or not.
The room settled into a quieter silence now, the weight of it all finally sinking in.
There wasn’t much of a choice.
So they would do what they always did.
And make the most of whatever roles they had been given.
Author’s Note: Look, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want to deal with 40+ characters as otherwise their post would get way too long and ngl, I’m too lazy 😝. So I didn’t went beyond the Season 2 characters, so sorry anyone who wanted to see the reaction of any hero beyond that. Know that I am suffering too. I wanted to see my babies Daredevil and Gambit’s reaction. Hope y’all can understand. 🥺
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