#invincible variants oc

[crunchieclowniez]

invincible oc..what!!!!

[wild-jackalope]

Ahhh your resent fix is amazing and I'm in love with it ❤️😭 your so talented 😍 would you do a HC with that fic like how was marriage life, any mini story with Mark being a dad and reader teaching him more human things I'm a sucker for stories like that 🥹

summary :: headcanons of your marriage with Viltrumite Mark, from this oneshot

warning :: general manipulation, having a child together, sex after marriage, home life with your superhero husband, kinda smut, lots of sex, angst, fem reader, Mark is quite literally his Dad, not 100% proof read

note :: so glad you asked for this because I really wanted to expand on this version of Mark a little more

★ Mark was far from the perfect partner, but he wasn’t the worst either.

freshly moved in

★ For one, he was surprisingly clean. Your home rarely saw a mess, mainly due to his occasional absences. When he was home, he folded his clothes neatly instead of tossing them about. He'd stack the dish washer after you made dinner. Which, granted, you had to teach him, but it stuck. He took pride in keeping your home tidy.

★ He was basically your personal heater during the cold months. He would wrap you up in his warm limbs and shielding you from the chill outside— but come summer, he was also your personal enemy. Mark loved to cuddle you, no matter the temperature. Some mornings you’d wake up to sticky skin, hair damp against your neck and your husband wrapped around you like burning rope, unwilling to let go.

★ He slowly began to melts into your affection, parting from his rigidness into your arms. It was a gradual change, but prominent. The Mark you first knew wouldn’t have dared to hug you back. He held you like he was trying to commit your shape to memory, his chest solid and warm against your squished body until you had to gently push at his shoulders to ease him off you.

★ You saved a lot of money on travelling expenses. No need for a thousand dollar plane ticket to see the world when your boyfriend's arms were just as—if not more—comfortable. “Rome tonight?” He’d ask, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I was thinking Turkey,” you’d respond.

★ Sex was a given constant. Once Mark finally moved in, it was practically every night—unless he came home too late into the night, or groaning from injuries sustained from missions. But when it happened it was like nothing you'd experienced with any other partner. Somehow, it had only gotten better over time as you both learned each other's bodies like your own.

★ The only thing he failed to grasp was sharing. The words “Mark, you can’t use that, it’s mine.” Never seemed to reach him. You’d groggily walk into the bathroom, bump his hip lightly before rubbing your eyes only to notice he was using your toothbrush. In reality, you didn’t care too much—after all, you two swapped spit almost every night— but it was more about the principle.

★ You had learned many things about him, mainly how to treat Viltrumite wounds. He would fly into your home with a myriad of injuries: sometimes light bruises, other times deep, angry gashes. Over time, you discovered that cold water and ice helped his healing along. So you kept a basin ready, towels stacked, and your hands steady—even when your heart wasn’t.

★ During lazy mornings, you’d wake up to him hovering over you. His brown eyes laxly gazing at your figure waking from your peaceful slumber. Was it romantic? Yes, but also startling.

★ The first time he said "I love you," was after a particularly rough fight. You'd patched up his wounds and pressed a longing kiss to his lips, slow and aching. The words didn't startle you, because it had felt as natural as hearing his heartbeat. But when you pulled back to look at him, you saw it in his eyes—that it had startled him.

fiancée

★ The proposal wasn’t some exquisite dream where he got on one knee as the sun setting behind him, asking you those three wonderful words. No— it was actually more of a battle. “Marriage.” He said bluntly, arm still lazily holding your bare waist, anchoring you to his chest. You blinked, an emotional shiver rising up your spine. ��You want to get married?” “Yes.” Your breath caught, and you ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, well, you need a ring. Uhm, you need to get down on one knee—” “Why would I kneel to you?” He asked, suddenly rising from the bed to peer down at you. “To show devotion, I think," you said carefully. “Bending a knee is a sign of submission,” Mark corrected, his tone clipped with Viltrumite distaste. You grinned, tilting your head to the side, "and what, you'd never submit to me?" "No." You sat up with him, trailing a fingernail across his chest just like you did most nights before initiating sex. His body loosened, his eyes lidding as he leaned in to kiss you. "Get on one knee," you whispered, "and ask me to marry you." He huffed out something like a laugh—amused, a little exasperated—but still obeyed. Sliding off the bed, he dropped to one knee, took your chin between his fingers, and said: “Will you marry me?”

★ Mark never quite fixed his jealously issues. They had only been tamed by the looming label of husband and wife. He still stared with a dark, pointed gaze at people who looked at you in a way he deemed incorrect. You knew the look well. You would just tug his arm, fingers curling around his bicep. The grounding touch was usually enough to pull him from whatever scenario he'd imagined for them.

★ Something he never entirely understood was lingerie—at first. He was the type of man that wouldn't blink at the most delicate, lacy set, just peel it off you. It wasn’t until one night, when you sighed at his undressing and looked away from him that he asked why you were being huffy, that you explained: “I wore this for you, Mark, so you’d find me sexy.” He finally saw the appeal. The nights after that, he'd let his fingers run over the bumpy lace, watching the way you presented yourself and the intent behind it. After all, what’s more sexy than your partner wrapping their body just for you?

★ He never cared for all the planning that went into the wedding. Why not elope and have it done with? Bachelor parties, not seeing the bride before the wedding—he saw the traditions as useless. That they only served to distract him from the real reason of the union, to be with you. Everything else felt like noise.

★ A honeymoon, though? Now was something that enticed him. A week abroad, just the two of you doing nothing but spending time together, eating, talking, fucking and celebrating. He would surely be telling Cecil to fuck off if he asked for any favours during that week.

husband

★ He was not a fan of wedding rings, stating that it would be inevitably broken during one of his fights. But he was quickly swayed when you said “This ring is a promise, Mark, that we’ll stay together through anything,” and from then on he was sure to keep it in tact.

★ Occasionally, when you were dead asleep beside him, Mark would mutter confessions of his home planet. But he never told you anything of his home when you were awake.

★ Suddenly, your name got replaced with "My wife." You were always introduced proudly as his wife, to friends and other heroes whenever they asked Mark about his personal life. Even to family members, Mark would call you his wife, which some found a little annoying. But to him, it was a title of honour.

★ You came to learn he showed his anger through silence, the kind that manifests in tense jaws, clenched fists and intense stares at nothing specifically. Communication— even after years on earth— was something he never figured out. He never yelled, just kept things from you.

★ He never really grasped the concept of casual affection. Kisses would divulge into your back pressed against a cold wall, his hand keeping your jaw slack whilst memorising the cave of your mouth. As much as you loved to have a man utterly whipped by you, having quickies every morning because you gave his a goodbye peck often made you late for work.

★ Honestly, your relationship remained just as perfect as it was before you two tied the knot. Only now, it was forever secured in the title of husband and wife.

father

★ When you fell pregnant, it’s was a surprise to say the least— a stupid surprise considering you two would have sex all the time— but a surprise nonetheless.

★ You cried into him, unable to stop the utter flood of emotions. He was unable to react himself, cradling your face and attempting to discern if you were frightened or overjoyed. He could barely see past the tears in your eyes, so he just held you and allowed you to soak the front of his shirt.

★ When your baby bump became prominent, he hovered, literally. Always doing house tasks before you could and never allowing you to pick things up from the floor.

★ Never, in your years together, had you ever seen Mark shed tears—until he held his newborn daughter. She was quiet, having already been soothed by feeling your skin against her. Gently, he peeled back the blanket swaddling her and offered her his finger. Her minuscule hand closed around it without hesitation. That had been the final chink in his armour and the tears came.

★ You thought because you traveled the world with Mark, you’d seen all of life’s most beautiful sights. Golden sun rises in Greece, the glittering coasts of Australia, the hushed snowfall in England. But one late morning, you stepped into your shared bedroom and saw them: both him and your little girl asleep, her tiny body on his chest, rising and falling with his steady breaths. You decided that was it. The most beautiful thing you’d seen.

★ He would often just watch the two of you. The way your fingers would delicately swipe her baby-hairs away from her little face, the way you'd fuss over her even when she slept—always tucking her blanket tight to keep in her warm. You never noticed his gaze fixed on you but he could stare forever, struck by your combined love given form.

★ The moments you never wished to end were the ones where Mark held you from behind, both of you watching your daughter feed—his arms around you, your arms around her, all of you held in love.

★ He hardly slept in the weeks after her birth. Not because of her cries at night, but to watch over you. The way your fingers rested gently over her tiny chest, your sleeping breath in time with her's, soothed to sleep by one another's heartbeats.

★ He had been a beautiful father, kind, warm, steady.

and yet…

Yet.

Your daughter stirred painfully from her death-like sleep. Her lashes rising then closing in quick flutters, adjusting to the bright, white hospital lights. You—broken by shame, guilt and something darker—had been too lost in the unending chasm of your mind, crushed between memories and what ifs to notice. Not until the hand held by your own began to twitch.

You rose, as if her sign of wake brought life into your zombified mind.

She tried to speak— her jaw cracked, purple with bruises, too swollen with internal bleeding to move. Through her dry voice, you knew she was attempting to call for you— for Mum.

“Don’t try to talk,” you gently hushed, "you're going to be okay." Your hand reached her dishevelled black hair, gliding over it in a soothing motion that had become second nature during your seventeen years of motherhood.

Her hollow gaze drifted down to her body. Both her legs and pelvis were locked in a correcting plaster elevated by two slings. Her left arm hung too, bruised fingers peaking from the thick white cast. Her right arm, the only one left, was wrapped tightly in a gauze and only punished her with pain when she attempted to lift it.

Her horrified eyes then returned to you.

You smiled at her. Though your red, puffy eyes betrayed you. "You're safe now, it's all over." You took a nearby cup of water and brought the straw to her lips. "Here, drink."

She did—barely, coughing at the strain the liquid caused her raw throat.

"I'm so proud of you." You said, forcing the cancer rising up your throat to free your words of any trembling.

Wordlessly, she rejected your touch, turning her head away from your hand. Silent tears streaming down her face.

Your hand dropped, alongside your heart. “I’ll... let you rest.” You pressed a gentle kiss to her feverish temple, I love you so much, the kiss said.

And then you left.

The moment the door shut behind you, you collapsed—body wracked with sobs that tore from your chest. It felt as though your soul had split into two, one half with your daughter and her terrible wounds, the other, gone. With Mark.

You buried your face in your hands and for the first time since you found out Mark killed the guardians, you finally let yourself cry like a powerless parent who couldn’t protect their own child.

[landlordh8r]

Reposting more invincible bullshit

[spurionage]

releasing my mark variant into the wild, be free invampcible

[agropuff]

more doodles

[kawaiigirly21]

The Beast In His Arms: Chapter 3

There were eyes in the sky. Too many eyes. All of which held a particular goal in mind. A pair of eyes suddenly locked onto their target. Their object of affection. Their pet. Their Queen. “There you are kitty…Come to Daddy!” As Nayera held up a piece of rubble to help a man out from under it, her ears picked up on a noise behind her. Quickly ushering the man away, she stood at the ready. Her ears on a swivel, flicking and trying to find where the sound was coming from.

Suddenly, she was grabbed and shoved into the ground aggressively. “Fuck!!” The assailant then grabbed her by her tail and yanked on it causing to roar out in pain. She then turned and clawed at his face. Her claws getting their first taste of blood in a long time. “Oh ho ho! So you’re sensitive there huh kitten? That’s good! That’s so fucking hot~!” The man smiled as he held his cheek and looked at her. Nayera froze where she stood. “What the hell? Mark?!” Her eyes scanned the features of the man in front of her.

That was Mark alright…but not her Mark. This one was different. In so many ways. His suit however was the main dead giveaway that he wasn’t her Mark. It was black and blue and had black goggles but his hair was not showing. Unlike her mark whose hair had space to breathe in his suit. Next was his voice. There was something so sadistic about it unlike her Mark’s whose voice was caring and loving. Her Mark…where was he? Was he ok?

Did he know he had an evil him running around? Regardless, he was too dangerous to let live. “Who are you impostor? I will only ask you once…before I take your life.” Cowl Mark smirked. “Oh my god you are so sexy. But yea, I’d like to see you try Princess. I really do! Come at me baby!” Elsewhere, at the Guardians HQ, Lensless Mark continued to body the heroes with minimal effort.

“Holy shit you guys are so good! But like really? Where is that sexy lion babe you guys got in your ranks? I reeeeally wanna meet her.~” He smirked before getting shoved into a pillar by The Immortal and punched in the face. “Don’t you dare speak of her, you pale imitation of Invincible! You monster!” Lensless Mark took the punches before countering with his own much stronger ones.

“I mean, I don’t need more motivation to kill you but sure! Insult me! Look, I’m only looking for that lion babe! And none of you wanted to tell me where she is! Are you assholes gatekeeping her or?” As Kate’s clones tried to attack the variant, he simply dispatched them with ease. Clearly having the time of his life, he was then tackled by the Immortal in a futile attempt to stop him.

“You know, my dad killed most of you guys back on my world and your stretchy friend wasn’t even there. He’s awesome. Wait, what did he say when ripped him in half? Shit! It was like so weird right? Does anybody remember?” He was then punched by the Immortal and laughed it off before mocking the last words of Shapesmith. “Help! I don’t wanna not be living! Wasn’t that it? Oh no it wasn’t it was like Oh nooooo I’m gonna not be aliveee!” He laughed as he looked over at the martian’s body.

“You’re a weird dude, dude.” The immortal hit him once more which made Lensless Mark stop smiling. “Dude…You ruined the moment.” He then killed the immortal and the last of Kate’s clones and took a look around the HQ. “Aw..Man I always do this. I kill them too fast then it’s over. No torture, no screaming, no fun…Oh well…I’m gonna go find my future wife! Thanks for your time dudes!” With that, he took to the skies in search of Nayera.

“Shit…This is really bad Mark..They’re everywhere.” Eve said, looking up from her phone to look at her friend. “Jesus…what do we do? They’re all me. Fuck..I hope Nayera is Ok..” Eve sighed. “You two still dancing around the problem?” Mark looked at Eve. “What problem?” Eve rolled her eyes. “You tell me. Why’d you guys break up when you so clearly still love each other.” Mark thought for a minute before Eve spoke again. “See? You don’t know. Now stop being a pussy and tell her you wanna get back together dumbass…Mark! Look!”

Mark then directed his attention to the variant fighting a group of heroes in the street. He slammed his fists into the ground creating a sizable crater in the ground. “You won’t be enough! Even together, you’re a fraction of my power!” Suddenly Mark came in and clocked him in the jaw, sending him back. “How about now?” Elsewhere, Nayera helped more people out of the rubble in the aftermath of her fight with the variant of her Ex?boyfriend.

Her suit and fur were stained in a substantial amount of blood and brains. “You know…I know you were crazy strong but…not that strong.” Oliver spoke as he stood over the badly beaten and mutilated body of the variant. “Thanks for the save by the way!” He smiled. Nayera simply pinched his cheek with one of her bloody hands and kissed his head. “You are like family Oliver. I will never allow harm to come to you as long as you are in my sights.”

“Oh yea, she’s strong alright. But not stronger than me!” A voice shouted before another variant grabbed Nayera by her arms and flew her up into the sky. “LET ME GO! I DEMAND IT AT ONCE!” The variant only smirked and dropped her onto the roof of a high building. “We battle! Now!!” Nayera growled out. Ready to kill again. This variant of Mark was also different. This one, had a mohawk along with bags underneath his eyes. He forwent a mask or goggles of anything. “I’m not gonna fight you sweetcheeks. But if I have to knock your ass out to restrain you…so be it baby.”

@mikajack9273

[smokey-jinn]

Left the party early

process:

[fairlybob]

I have been binged watching invincible and it was great, I loved the characters so muchhh

When I watched the recent episode I just wanted to make a variant and I just watched the pilot of pretty pretty please don't make me a magical girl so here, Magical girl mark aka Marcy(kinda rushed sorry)sorry again if it's cringe

[redisikkkkk]

Some silly doodles and full picture of my Mark from my twt(x) variant :D

[chassifrassy]

Did a ton of doodle recently to practice more, here’s my art dump

[repcnt]

Who who cares cares

his name is Sebastian Grayson

[landlordh8r]

Reposting my invincible x oc stuff because I deleted my old account

Anyone else invincing they dih or whatever

[elementaskylos345]

Feral doesn't like Omni-Mark very much...

[rawringxd]

Some drawings I made on whiteboard!!

[rickgrimes19785]

Btw some art 😁

[kawaiigirly21]

The Beast In His Arms: Chapter 2

Not even a week later, trouble started when Nayera started letting Cecil run tests on her. They studied her strength, her speed and agility. They asked extremely personal questions and inquired that they were ‘Necessary’ for their studies. “Have you and Invincible had sex?” A scientist asked while another checked her heart rate.

“Excuse me!? How dare you ask such an explicit question?! I do not see how my personal affairs have anything to do with my abilities as a hero!” To say she was offended was an understatement. She was royalty for God sakes! A princess! And they dared to ask her something like that?! Petulant rats! Standing from her sitting position, Nayera fought the urge to smirk at the size difference between her and the scientists.

Suddenly Cecil walked in. “Leaving so soon? We're not done.” The man said as he watched Nayera gather her things to leave. “I believe we are good sir. For your so-called scientists have insulted me for the last time.” Cecil in return rolled his eyes. “Who knew your kind was so sensitive. All they did was ask you necessary questions.” Nayera was quick to turn around and back Cecil up against a wall with her teeth bared.

“I’ve had dolls bigger than you in my adolescence. I’d hate to see you end up like them. Broken and used. Now, let me leave.” Later that day, as Nayera laid her head on Mark’s lap while listening to him talk about his day, she felt tears sting her eyes under her bangs. “Babe? You’re pretty quiet tonight. Is everything ok?” Mark asked while stroking her tail. She nodded silently and moved her head closer to him trying to gather all his warmth.

“I heard about the incident today, In the  GDA HQ. Is that why you’re being so mopey?” His fingers trailed from her tail to her back to her head. Gaining another silent nod from her, Mark sighed before leaving down and pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “ I’ll talk to Ceil. It wasn’t fair for them to ask you stuff like that.” Thinking for a moment, Mark smiled and tapped Nayera on her nose. “Wanna race? Here to home? I’ll even hold back to give you a chance.” Nayera sat up and smirked. “You are going down!”

Many Many months later, Many things had happened to Mark and Nayera. While Mark struggled with his morality, Nayera struggled with her ability to control her anger. With this came arguments. Loud and explosive arguments. At that time, the couple decided to take a break until they were sure they were stable enough to be together again. They however still remained friends. “Mark, pass me that?” Nayera asked as she scribbled in her stress relief art book.

Her markers and colored pencils spilled across his bed as the pair sat in comfortable silence with the occasional question or two. “Mark? Hello?” Looking up from her book, Nayera noticed Mark staring off into space with a frown on his face. “Mark? It's not your fault about what happened. That powerplex guy is going to get the help he needs in prison…” Mark looked over at Nayera as she leaned over him. Her bangs parted slightly which gave him a good look at her pale blue eyes that albino animals usually had.

She had a soft mile on her face and brushed a caring hand through his hair. It gave him flashbacks to the day he met her…The day he actually fell in love. “The help he needs because of the fight with my dad and I killed his sister and niece or the help he needs because the fight between him and I killed his wife and son?” Mark grumbled. “I know none of it is my fault but it feels like…” Nayera then pressed a sweet kiss on his head.

“It’s not your fault Mark. End of discussion. Now, Pass me that marker!” She giggled, making the man smile. It seemed like when he was around her, he felt better about his situation. He didn’t think about it much unlike when he was by himself leaving his mind to wander. He missed her smile. He missed her laugh…he wanted to get back together but wasn’t sure on how to approach the subject.

Sitting up, Mark handed Nayera the purple marker before taking a deep breath. It was now or never. “Hey…Nayera? I wanted to know…what’s your …If you want to…Um..Fuck! Do you wanna-” “Hold that thought Mark!” Nayera noticed her watch beep red. “Guardian emergency. I gotta skedaddle! We’ll continue this later, kay? I’ll just leave my stuff here. See ya Marky Mark!” Leaning in close, Nayera pecked him on the lips quickly before leaving.

Mark could feel his heart palpate as he brought his fingers to his lips. “Does…she still love me like I still love her?” Before he could further dwell on it, Mark picked up his phone when he noticed Eve calling him. “Hey Eve. I’m at home…why? I’m not in Paris Eve. Trust me I would know if I’m in Paris.”

“Wait…So if you’re not in Paris…Who is…?”

AN: The variants are in the next chapter!! Which variant should Nayera meet first?

@mikajack9273