#mohawk mark

[alexandezz]

Mohawk mark

[sunsetbois]

Fic HCs - Who is the best locater

O/c can go invisible, have fun! - These are also notes for me too when I am writing :)

Viltrumite- Mark:

Canonically is full viltrumite, has good hearing, more sensitive to changes in air pressure, the little details. This man is a true warrior. he usually doesn't give this many chances, but for you? you seem to be the exception.

Viltrumite may not know exactly where you are but terrifyingly he is usually very very very close. fair enough, if you are somewhere that won't show footprints i.e (anywhere not covered with debris (Actual spent 10 minutes trying to remember how to spell a damn word)/a soft fuzzy carpet/pigmented liquids/basically anything that could cut your feet or legs or leave a trace. Steam is debated, it would be like an eye trick and something very difficult to spot but Viltrumite does actually find you in a steamy scene (later down the line) Only talks in a clinical way, stating the obvious when he knows you are there- it was too much to watch the other versions of himself make fools of themselves.

Probably the best at locating once he has a lead. No leads, not much of a chance even if he is circling everywhere as fast as possible, trying to be efficient.

Omni- Mark:

This man is impatient, just wants to find you, he makes mistakes a lot. Falls for the old, throw an object- misdirection shtick a lot too- merely out of being thorough in the chase, but he would never compromise your safety just to find you. Green flag covered in red (literally)

Gives you chances (even if he is off kilter and you are actually not there like he thought) to come out, knowing you probably wouldnt either way, tries to bargain in a way which sounds completely unsettling given his bargaining was more along the lines of "The others are growing bored of this game, everything will be burned down starting next hour. you need to come out" complete lie. he gave you numerous little emergencies and suggestions with horrific consequences yet they hadn't happened- except when Sinister accidently caused a wild fire.

Chances are you are more likely to show yourself to him than the others, the situation depends but he is not finding your ass on his own, just so long as he doesn't smell your perfume.

Lenseless/No goggles- Mark:

Totally in the "You kinda want him to find you before he starts tearing shit up for funsies" category. But!! he does apologize if he gets you. A little "sorrrrrryyyyyy" here and there when he inevitably notices the the small lines of floating blood- or worse, if the 'love tap' fucks with your hold and you accidently blink into visibility.

The more you make him wait when he DOES know, the more it's going to turn into a cat playing with the mouse until you just acknowledge him and maybeee entertain him for a bit- he loves telling you about his 'excursions' and stupid stories usually pretty gory but the way he talks about it, you'd think he was freestyling stand up comedy.

Kind of a hit or miss- he might have a clue, but usually not before he's caused a little pain by accident, but he will kiss it better.

Sinister- Mark:

NONONONONONONONONO you don't want him to find you, but shit can get dangerous quick if you don't give him a hint. Dangerous in the holy fuck he's about to start throwing cars, trees up in the air like a fatal game of hot potato... punching through a level of a building you are on kind of bad. You will get hurt, but the man is scary.

He is the most unfazed about causing harm to you, not in the life threatening kind anyway- just like a little cut hear and there, maybe a little bruise or a broken limb when you refused to tell him you were and he took that as a challenge against nature.

If you so much as breathe if he is nearby- he will hear it. Gets cocky about it, blocking exits, talking like you aren't in the room. Who wants to hear the most brutal ways to die when you are essentially stuck in a stale mate with a variant of a superhero with the power of a malfunctioning hydraulic press? no? well he's gonna talk about it anyway, he likes you scared.

3/10 in being able to find you himself.

Mohawk- Mark:

Will fall for the stupidest tricks, and it doesnt help that he is a little unhinged.. unhinged in the sense that he sees a curtain moving at a drafty window and thinks 'Yes!' but really it's just the draft. he is constantly listening for movement which he might have heard if he wasn't busy talking and pawing at air.

100% has zero clue where you are without any obvious visual clues or vocal- it's like a game of cat and mouse on steroids. He says the most fucked up shit in the hopes he will get a peep out of you. Knows what to say to rile you up which makes being quiet hard sometimes.

No clue out the wazoo- give the boy a bone.

Flaxan- Mark:

Different from the other variants because he grew up in Flaxan (presumably murdered them all and rose to power/king status) He has tech that can detect thermal temperatures. You are completely fucked and caught in 4k because he 100% is finding you.

Doesn't need to resort to threats or bargaining or looking like an ass just to try and make out where you are- he knows and he won't wait for your tricks because he's the grabbing type- i.e. not a chance to turn around before being swept up and in the air.

Unless there are other lifeforms nearby (doubt) you won't be undetectable. 1000% finding your ass before you see it coming.

Prisoner- Mark:

He is patient. very patient. he did time and he can wait it out. He couldn't exactly rely on his hearing given the shell of his ears were scarred from viltrum torture.

His best chance is if you just straight up announce your presence but of course you aren't going to do that- he looks terrifying but he's not as... bat shit as the others or too indoctrinated to viltrum ways. You aren't exactly safe with him either but at least he has the decency to try and hide it.

2/10 - his chances aren't great.

[sweetmctart]

too lazy to finish colorinh

[jinxposting]

Two Of A Kind - chapter 3

Mohawk Mark x Jinx! reader

Taglist: @1abi @mightymeick @hapikiou

"So, which one next?"

You hum to yourself in thought. Your eyes scan the buildings around you before landing on another sky scraper. You point at it flippantly.

"That one."

Without another word Mark flies off, rapidly approaching the building you'd selected. You watched as he slid through it with ease. Smoke plumed out from the now collapsing structure. Before it could even hit the ground the man was back beside you, a proud grin on his face.

You sit in silence for a moment, admiring the man's handiwork from where you sat. You swing your legs back and forth from the rooftop ledge you currently occupied.

You sigh. "Shame we aren't in L.A. Would love to watch them burn."

"Yeah but the caped weirdo got that one."

"Caped?" You stifled a laugh. "There's a version of you that wears a cape?"

"A few actually. So lame. And his colors are black and yellow. I mean- seriously? You look like a bee! That's supposed to be threatening?"

You both chuckle at the expense of the unknown variant. You look over the one who stood next to you. Black and blue full bodysuit, no mask, and the mohawk of course. It was then you took note of the small black dots that decorated his face. From a distance you could mistake them for moles, or possibly even dirt given his current state. But seeing him up close now you realize they're piercings.

Twin studs under each side of this bottom lip, one on his left eyebrow, and a mix of studs and small cuffs on his ears. A smug smile tugged on his lips.

"Checkin' me out?"

"Kinda. Never paid attention to the piercings before."

His smirk widened. "You like? I got more I could show you."

You blinked at him in confusion before realization settled in. You felt your cheeks flush and fixed him with an incredulous stare. "Uh huh." You roll your eyes.

"Aw, don't believe me?"

Mark leaned down to meet your gaze. His tongue slowly descended from between his teeth, a silver stud on display. Your attention flickered between it and his half lidded eyes. He offered a wink in response before retracting the appendage.

"You- other you was a big fan of that one."

That cleared the growing fog in your mind. You had been wondering about this 'other you'. You didn't want to push the topic but seeing as he's the one who brought it up...

"What was different about me in your universe?" You swallow dryly at his surprised expression. "You said I went to college so I'm assuming I had something of a decent upbringing there? I doubt I was a vigilante."

Mark cleared his throat. "Yeah. Your folks were decent. Supportive. Everything you'd told me about your childhood was pretty standard. The occasional bully at school or a bad break up, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"Which is why-" He let out an airy laugh. "-why it's so funny you're the one who was punk rock. Denim jackets with spikes and patches of bands I'd never heard of, smudged eyeliner, combat boots, the whole nine yards."

He softly trailed a hand down one of your braids. "Never did the hair dye though. Said you hated how fast it'd fade."

You groaned. "That we definitely agree on. Do you have any idea how quickly this turns green?" You lift the other braid for show. "I like green and all but I have a brand to protect here!"

Mark playfully flicked the braid he held in your face. His smile gradually fell. You could see the gears in his head turning, debating something.

"Okay, your turn." He sat beside you.

"Huh?"

"Well I shared some of my world with you, so tell me about your's." He rested an arm lazily atop a propped up knee. "You mentioned... being experimented on. Glossed over a lot of stuff really."

You blinked owlishly at him before sighing and turning your gaze on the newly destroyed city. You could still see pieces of the building he'd just demolished falling apart. You stare into the crumbling streets, eyes unfocused.

"My childhood was... complicated. Long story short my mom was a narcissist and my dad was just a straight up asshole. Growing up around that tends to make you kinda defensive. Aggressive. And that tends to make others not wanna be around you, so no friends either."

You feel his eyes boring holes into you. You do your best to ignore the twisting feeling of being pitied.

"Which means I spent a lot of time by myself. Picked up a lot of hobbies." You pull a grenade from it's holster. You stare down at it, it's scribbled sharp toothed grin greeting you in return. "The one I was best at happened to be taking things apart and putting them back together."

You smile faintly. "It was the first thing that made me feel... useful." You shrug. Your smile quickly fades as you fiddle with the pin. "But then I screwed up. Blew up the house with me and my parents inside."

"Next thing I know I'm waking up in a white room. Bright lights, the smell of alcohol whipes, and pain." You loop a finger into the pin ring. "So much pain."

"Then I saw him. Cecil." You pulled the pin.

Mark flinched. You stared blankly down at the device as it began beeping.

"Couldn't tell what he was saying but he was ordering the doctors around." The beeping quickened. "They stuck an IV in me and started pushing all these chemicals and whatever else. Burned like hell."

The grenade's beeping became erratic. You could see from the corner of your eye Mark was ready to pounce. Before he could you lazily dropped the bomb to the empty streets below. You watched as it exploded midair.

"After a month or two the G.D.A. put me in physical therapy. And after that they found out their little medicinal cocktail had an added benefit. Nothing crazy powerful, just some enhanced reflexes, but still useful all the same."

You leaned back on your hands and tilted your head up, watching the clouds roll by. "I was given an ultimatum. Either I go to high security prison or I work for them." You turned to Mark with a weak smile. "So here I am. On the bastard's payroll."

Mark stared for a moment, silent. You expected as much. These types of conversations always lead to an awkward atmosphere. For others anyway. As far as you were concerned it was to be expected. When bad things happen to you that's par for the course. You've never known any other way.

The feeling of a gloved hand on the back of your neck startles you. You're pulled into Mark's shoulder as he wraps his other arm around your back. You can smell asphalt and a hint of fire.

"I'm sorry."

Your breath hitches.

He's sorry? For what? Terrible things happen to you. That's just how it is. How it's always been. Jinxed.

"I can't change any of that." His grip tightened ever so slightly. "But I can promise that I will never let anyone hurt you again."

A humorless chuckle escapes you. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

Mark stilled. For a moment you think he's stopped breathing entirely. He pulled away in favor of staring into your eyes. His gaze was piercing. Dark and determined.

"I would burn the world- every world to ground before letting anything happen to you." His hand slips from the back of your neck to your cheek. "That's the whole reason I'm here."

You stare wide eyed at the man. It takes time for his statement to sink in, but when it does you're reeling.

Losing 'you'.

Conquering worlds.

It's his atonement.

You feel your eyes swell with tears. You blink desperately to will them away.

The idea that someone could care for you - love you so deeply as to destroy everything that remained was overwhelming. It made you sick in the best of ways.

In that moment it didn't matter that it was a different version of you. It was still you in his eyes. He had lost you and in an attempt to right his perceived failure he was literally going to the ends of the earth to atone. To destroy the world that had hurt you.

You feel warm tears slide down your face. A hiccup erupts from your throat. Mark pulled you back into his embrace, clinging desperately to you. You returned the gesture, sobbing and shaking as he held you ever closer.

You don't know how long you sat there. How long you cried while Mark gently swayed you both. It isn't until the sky starts to shift to orange and pink hues that you've calmed yourself.

Your eyes are red and puffy and there's a damp spot on Mark's shoulder. You can feel your head pounding with the beginning of a headache.

You meet the man's gaze and realize you were wrong earlier. It's not a look of pity.

It's love.

[sinistersalem]

comic spoilers ahead!!

oh my go d i lvoe you mohawk mark you never dieded........... even mark with a mohawk is fine too, a mark is a mark imo

[secretaccountlol]

hi i love your mohawk mark fics and im invested and curious about his character.

would you mind sharing with us some more ideas about your characterization of him? what’re his civilian clothes like? what’s his relationship with his dad? does he turn on humanity in the future? what music does he listen to?? or whatever you want really

take care!!

Eeek yess !! I’d love to talk about my verison of Mohawk!

Well.. first this fic came to me in a dream; so I kinda added it on from there? Haha.

In general, I would say in a weird my Mohawk is softer than his canon part, he’s not one dimensional.

For example my Mohawk is a big mommas boy. He doesn’t care for too many people to be honest. She’s the MOST important person he cares about; that includes her opinions,

Does he particularly care to be a hero? No.. not truly. But it makes his mother proud, and that’s enough for him..

That and also proving his father wrong.

See the fight between mark and his dad, happened in my au. But instead of mark being upset that he’s trying to inslave everyone.. he’s more annoyed on why he should give over earth to some random alien fuckers he doesn’t know?? If he’s gonna take over earth, (he’s not just.. doesn’t care too— too much work!) they’ll be his own slaves! Why would he bow down to any fuckin empire!

His father challenges him ofc, advising mark that he doesn’t even care for these peoples why does he care if anyone comes and takes over? His life wouldnt change!

Nolan insults him, telling him how his own mother is afraid of his apathetic view on life and humans, how he had little care for anyone out of his little social circle,

but that nolan saw it as a strength, not something to be afraid of, something showing him he is a true vilturmite. He’s not a “hero” a “good” person what ever these silly ideas humans, including his own mother, made up

This did upset him,, his mom .. is the only one who truly cared about, knowing deep down she’s scared of him? Of what he might become? Makes a bit of him die.

Nolan spewed more bs like his mom was a pet…which at that point mark is pissed.

The fight goes the same like canon where Nolan feels bad and flys away… mark is left beaten to a bloody pulp. And that’s kinda where we are.

If I make more parts I’ll expand on how he feels about his father but Debbie and mark.. try not to talk about it. It’s too painful, and he could never confront his mom about what his father said.. that she’s scared of him.

He kills him inside because she’s rightful. She does have a reason, if Nolan didn’t say all that terrible shit about Debbie, he ..maybe would have gone along with it, in time. She now has a better reason to be scared because he is Nolan’s son.. a man who spent years on this earth only to betray it, and his family. Whose to say he won’t do the same?

But he also her son.. he will do the right thing. Or atleast try.

He feels like he needs to prove his mom right, and prove his dad wrong,

Even if .. his heart isn’t fully in it, he can’t break his moms heart again like that.

Loving one evil man is bad enough, but raising an evil one as well?

That could.. be too much for her.

Mmm. So I would say he’s good for semi selfish reasons. He kinda has a heart but he’s..antisocial haha. He likes to make his own path, has a loose moral compass which mostly hinges on if his mama would be upset if she found out what he was doing.. though sometimes he does it anyways (aka like stalking reader)

He’s happy he got his powers but he gets annoyed that he has all this responsibility but takes it to the chin since that’s “just what I gotta do.. I guess”. Very lasckadaisy .

Though if he never got his powers he would just be a slob, have a bad relationship with his mom and probably start a band some real artsy shit. He could be smart if he applied himself, but he won’t so.. he’s not crazy smart either.

Okay now for fun stuff lolol.

What music would he listen to ? (..tbh anything I would listen to haha) like

ICP (insane clown posse) and MSI (mindless self indulgence), but I think he would enjoy rap like Eminem and rave music like S3RL (occasionally) and breakcore.

Stuff that’s raunchy.. and murderous in nature chaotic but.. he could get down with some laufey..

What can he say? He loves good music, doesn’t matter the genre though he does have favorites.

I think his fashion is very.. British punk. His pieces clearly have a lot of thought put in them, though he styles them as a “effortlessly fashionable” way. Yk that guy who always looks sharp but doesn’t look like takes 1 hr to get ready (spoiler alert..he does) he DIY a lot of his jackets and patches.

He’s partial to monochrome fits, mostly if not always black. He does do pops of color though. Like red, purple, blues.’ But never too flashy. Doesn’t care to draw more attention he already gets his fill being a hero. (Though doesn’t super care if people stare at em)

Okokok backing up a bit.

So you know how I said he would be a slob if he had no powers?

Yeah..well he has powers so.. he cares about his appearance. Debbie beat that into him, when he started expressing himself.

“If your gonna dress like that, make sure it actually looks..good.”

Though I don’t think she understood punks aren’t suppose to “look good” but whatever

He did take it heart, always clean, trimmed his body hair meticulously, fresh hair cut always. He also had exceptionally clean skin.. like not a lick of acne, if he does get one pimple or breakout he gets really pissy about it. He also.. can’t STAND ingrown hairs, how can something on his body piss him off so bad!

To be honest.. I don’t know if he’ll turn on humanity yet.

Maybe he will maybe he won’t.. reader will also help decide in that maybe?

They’re very similar in the way of “idc what happens to the world as long as it doesn’t effect me and my mom”

Okay.. sorry for yapping LOLOL I hope I answered some of your questions!

Here are examples of his clothes

[streco3y]

Not sure if I need to tag it with trigger just let me know if yes haha

[nikargentum]

dumbass boys (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ (cr m!william design)

[transparentpot]

Good meal 😋🍽️

超绝串串香时刻啊口牙！！！

⚠️警惕无敌小动物

😼坏猫:你们不饿吗？

[seacuppy]

Another batch of mark emotes done!

[asaarii]

ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible) reader: fem wc: 2604 summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend? cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this requested by: @sophsthebest

this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now

Life is strange, really. 

One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.

You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.

You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.

MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay

You: i’m fine

You: i’m just scared mark 

You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…

MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you

MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw

The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.

“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.

Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.

This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love. 

Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.

“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.

Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.

Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.

“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”

So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.

You don’t get far.

A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.

“Another survivor?” 

You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.

“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.

Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.

“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”

The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”

You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.

“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed. 

He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.

“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor. 

Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.

“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.

Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.

A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?

While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—

“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel. 

“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.

“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”

“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!” 

The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.

Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”

Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.

Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.

Then he hears it—they all hear it.

The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.

A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.

Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.

Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.

“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”

No.

No.

No.

This can’t be happening—

You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.

“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.

Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.

Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.

“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.

A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.

Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.

“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.

“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.

“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.

“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.

“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”

Shit.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

[nana-au]

thinking about an alternate mark whose first and only objective in the invincible war is to get to you. you were his first love - his only love, and he's missed you desperately...

in your universe you were too nervous to make a move and now it's too late since mark and eve are basically meant for each other... so when chaos hits and all the invincible variants come to wreak havoc and mark rushes to make sure you're safe, you don't understand why he's not out there saving the world with eve.

you're in his suffocating embrace when you ask him this and he stiffens briefly, before pulling away to look down at you. his eyes so full of adoration and he asks: "who's eve?"

[sweetmctart]

some doodles

[papagelidisxd]

Random fanart of this guy because I like his design

He’s so gentle and kind ahah

[spurionage]

defeat my 5 evil alternate marks (with mild headcanons)

[no-name-was-free]

You’re not a hero. You're stronger than anyone on earth, but you know yourself, if you ever try to do the hero stuff, you will turn supervillain in a week: too much stress and responsibility. You help Cecil train the other (you spend the last month beating up Mark and that was actually very funny) and let him spy on you, but for the rest, no mission, no risk, no late night saving people. Still you use your power a lot: flying instead of driving, super speed to complete your task, or, like now, just calmly walking, with your ice cream, during the Invincibles invasion.

Around you chaos and destruction, body and all, but it wasn’t new: in the last years Viltrumite came bringing chaos at least once a year, you were sure heroes could handle that.

As long as you were left alone, you had no intention of interfering, but of course they couldn’t just let you alone.

You felt his presence even before seeing his shadow over you, but just keep walking, licking your ice cream.

-Are you ignoring me? You’re fun.

You just keep walking, ignoring him like he was some catcaller. He landed behind you, hard enough to make the whole street break under him. Then, when you were going to fly away, he grabbed your arm, hard enough to bruise normal skin, and ended up making your ice cream fall to the ground. You just buy it! It was rude as fuck.

You stared at him: terrible haircut, smug grin, what too much attitude for his skill. Now he’s got your attention, poor thing has no idea what he was getting himself into.

-You stopped ignoring me, huh? Are you dumb or just deaf.

While talking, he dragged you up in the sky, threatening to let you fall, it was almost adorable.

-You owe me an ice cream.

He laughed.

-So you really are stupid!

He stared at you a little longer, and you let him, it wasn’t time yet.

-You’re almost pretty… A shame, Down we go.

He lets you, without hesitation, like some child who grows bored of a toy. Then you acted fast, before he could realize you could fly. You grabbed his head, dragging him down and slamming his face against the grown, where the rest of your ice cream was melting.

-Down we are.

He slipped away from your grab, quick, still weaker than the Mark you’re used to fighting. He’s smile now smaller, his face stained with ice cream, he charged at you, without thinking, but that wasn’t even a challenge. In a few second you’ve got him on the ground again, your feet on his wrists to keep him still. He tried to oppose resistance, but it was futile.

-You poor thing, not so smug anymore i see.

He looked at you, stopped trying to get out, and he dared to smirk.

-What now, Pretty?

-Now you owe me an apology at least.

His smile just grew bigger.

-Good luck with that, it’s gonna be very long.

Fuck, you’re going to make that brat cry.