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Oooooh superhero gn reader x Viltrumite mark, please! During the Invincible War, Mark goes to take reader back to his universe, saying heâs missed them and their life together. Reader rejects him, and makes a deal: if reader wins, Mark has to stop wrecking chaos on the planet. If mark wins, reader will go back with him and whatever âlifeâ they created. And reader ends up losing. :)))
THE WRONG UNIVERSE TO LOVE YOU IN
pairing viltrum! mark grayson x (superhero) gender neutral reader
this one wants you back. the problem? you don't belong to him. you belong to the mark who loves eve, the mark who will never know you loved him first, the mark whose laugh still echoes in your dreams.
now, as his fingers wipe blood from your face with terrifying gentleness, reality splits open: stay and die for a love that was never yours, or let him steal you away to a world where you were hisâwhere you'll always be second to a ghost of yourself.
(he promises to be better. you almost believe him.)
taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff
the sky is bleeding red when he finds youâa sickly crimson streaked with smoke, the air thick with the scent of burning metal and charred flesh. the distant wails of sirens blend into the chaos, a symphony of destruction that never seems to end.
youâre panting, your bruised knuckles pressed into the cracked pavement as you push yourself up, every muscle screaming in protest. the city around you is a graveyardâskyscrapers reduced to skeletal husks, streets littered with bodies, some still twitching, others long gone. the invincible war has turned your world into a slaughterhouse, and standing in the middle of it all, untouched by the ruin, is him.
mark grayson.
but not your mark.
this one is differentâsharp where your best friend is soft, his jaw set in a hard line, his eyes dark with something unreadable. thereâs a cruel twist to his lips, a coldness in his stare that makes your stomach knot. he wears the viltrumite empireâs uniform, the sleek, lighter armor a stark contrast to the torn superhero costumes scattered around you. a few blood stains littered the fabric, some of it still fresh, glistening under the firelight. itâs not just from battleâno, this mark wears it like a trophy.
you had just finished killing other variants of him, their lifeless eyes staring up at you, their faces so familiar it made your hands shake. you mourned them, grieved for the versions of you in their worlds who must have loved them as fiercely as you love yours. your breath still comes in ragged gasps, your heart pounding not just from exhaustion, but from the weight of what youâve done.
and then he arrived.
this mark moves with a predatorâs grace, his steps measured, his shoulders squared with the confidence of someone whoâs never lost. thereâs a quiet intensity in the way he surveys the wreckageâlike a king surveying his domain. but when his eyes land on you, something shifts. the cold superiority in his gaze softens, just for a second, before he schools his expression back into something unreadable.
"there you are," he says, voice low, almost reverent, like heâs been searching through a thousand broken worlds just to find you. the way his eyes trace over youâlingering on the blood smeared across your cheek, the way your chest heaves with exhaustionâmakes your skin prickle. itâs not relief in his tone. itâs claiming.
and you realize, with a sinking dread that coils like ice in your gut, that this isnât over. itâs only beginning.
"missed you,"Â he murmurs, the words rough, scraped raw from his throat. his voice is different from your markâsâdeeper, edged with a hunger that makes your pulse stutter. he says it like heâs been holding it in for years, like heâs carved the words into his ribs just to keep them close.
your chest tightens, heart hammering against your sternum. youâve heard the storiesâwhispers of alternate marks, warped by viltrumâs cruelty, ripping through dimensions to drag back what they think belongs to them. and now heâs here, standing in the wreckage of your city, looking at you like youâre a ghost heâs been chasing. like youâre already his.
"you donât even know me,"Â you spit, swiping the back of your hand across your split lip. the metallic tang of blood coats your tongue, bitter and familiar.
he tilts his head, considering you with a gaze that feels like a physical touch. "i know enough," he says, voice dropping into something dangerously soft. "in my world, you were mine." his thumb brushes over a streak of dirt on your jaw, possessive and tender all at once. "we had a life. a future." his eyes darken, something feral flickering behind them. "iâm taking you back."
your fists clench, nails biting into your palms hard enough to draw blood. you think of your markâthe boy who scraped his knees racing you down suburban streets, whose laughter was always a little too loud, a little too bright. the one who looks at eve like she hung the stars, while youâve spent years swallowing down words that taste like rust and regret.
"what happened to me?" you choke out, the question tearing from you like a wound ripped open. "in your world. did iâ" your voice fractures. "did i love you too? or did you just force me to?"
his pupils dilate, just slightly, the only crack in his controlled facade. for a heartbeat, he looks almost human. "you begged me to stay," he says, low and rough, like the memory is a blade twisting in his gut. "the night before the viltrumite fleet came. you held onto me like you knew." his jaw tightens. "then they burned our world to ash. but youâ" his thumb presses against your pulse point, a mockery of tenderness. "you were always meant to survive."
the air leaves your lungs. you can see itâsome other version of you, screaming as the sky split open, clinging to a monster because they didnât know heâd become one.
"no."
his expression darkensânot like a storm rolling in, but like a door slamming shut. the brief vulnerability in his eyes snuffs out, pupils contracting into something cold and calculating. his jaw tightens, the muscle flexing as his teeth grind together, like heâs biting back words heâll never say. the softness that had flickered across his face for just a second hardens into something unreadable, the lines of his face sharpening into a mask of imperial discipline.
but his eyesâoh, his eyes. theyâre not just empty. theyâre hungry.
the way he looks at you isnât just possessive. itâs devouring. his gaze drags over you like heâs memorizing the shape of your defiance, like he canât wait to break it apart and remake you into something that fits in the hollow of his hands. his lips twitch, not into a smirk, but into something far more dangerousâa smile that doesnât reach his eyes, a smile that says, you think you have a choice?
and then, just like thatâitâs gone. his face smooths back into viltrumite indifference, as if that momentary crack in his armor had never existed. but you saw it. you felt it. and thatâs what terrifies you the most. "you donât get a choice."
"then fight me for it," you snap, surging forward until your forehead hovers a breath away from his, close enough to feel the heat of his skin, close enough to count the flecks of gold in his darkened eyes. the scent of smoke and iron and something uniquely him clings to the space between you, thick enough to choke on. he doesnât flinchâdoesnât even breatheâjust holds your gaze with a half-lidded, almost lazy intensity, like youâre a puzzle heâs already solved.
then his eyes drag downward, slow and deliberate, lingering on the part of your lips, the quickened rise and fall of your chest. thereâs no shame in it, no pretenseâjust hunger, plain and unapologetic. your pulse stutters. for one terrifying second, you almost falter, because this isnât the look of a conqueror assessing his enemy.
itâs the look of a man remembering how you taste.
"if i win, you leave this planet alone. if you winâŚ" your voice wavers as a memory blindsides youâyour markâs face, soft in the moonlight on his rooftop, his fingers brushing yours as he smiled at you with something warm and unreadable. youâd let yourself imagine, just for a second, that it was love. that it could be you.
now, youâre bargaining with a ghost of him.
"iâll go with you,"Â you whisper.
he grins finally, all teeth, but still disciplinedâlike heâs savoring the way your breath hitches when he leans in. "deal."
(â§ââŚ)ďžâ
the battle is brutal.
youâre strongâstrong enough to have shattered the ribs of other marks, strong enough to have left their bodies broken in the rubble of this war. but him? heâs something else entirely. every hit he lands cracks through your bones like fault lines, every impact vibrating through your teeth until your jaw aches. you dodge, but youâre always a half-second too slow, his fist grazing your cheekbone hard enough to send stars exploding across your vision.
and the worst part? heâs smiling. small and private just for you, but still there.
not the sharp, cruel grin of a conquerorâno, this is lazy, almost playful, like heâs savoring the way your breath comes in ragged gasps, the way your muscles scream as you push yourself beyond limits that should have broken you already. heâs toying with you, you realize with a sickening lurch. not because he needs to, but because he wants to see how long youâll last.
"you took down six of them," he muses, catching your fist mid-swing like itâs nothing, his fingers tightening until your knuckles creak in protest. "six of me." his voice drops, something almost like pride curling through it. "thatâs not nothing."
then his knee slams into your gut, and the world blurs.
you donât even feel the moment his fist collides with your ribsâjust the sickening crunch, the way your body folds around the impact before youâre hurled backward, crashing through concrete and steel like paper. debris hails down around you, dust choking your lungs as you gasp, vision swimming in and out of black.
when the ringing in your ears fades, heâs already there, crouched beside you with all the casual grace of a predator whoâs never known fear. his fingers brush the hair from your face, smearing blood across your temple in a mockery of tenderness.
"you put up a good fight," he murmurs, thumb dragging over your split lip. his voice is almost fond, like heâs praising a well-trained weapon. "stronger than most. smarter, too." his grip tightens, just slightly, forcing your gaze up to his. "but you were never gonna win."
your body screamsâmuscles torn, bones fractured, blood pooling beneath you like a second shadow. but the pain in your chest is worse, a hollowed-out wound no advanced viltrumite healing could ever fix. you think of your markâhis stupid, lopsided smile, the way his voice softened when he said your name, the light in his eyes when he looked at eveâa light that was never, ever for you.
and now youâll never tell him.
"promise me," you whisper, the words slick with blood, metallic and bitter on your tongue. thereâs so much more you want to sayâbegging, pleading things that claw at your throat like trapped birds. promise me youâll love me. promise me i wonât just be another trophy. promise me you wonât get bored and break me when iâm no longer new. promise me you won't throw me aside like he did. but all that comes out is: "promise youâll leave this world alone."
markâs thumb drags across your cheekbone, smearing dirt and blood in a mockery of gentleness. his touch is warm, almost reverent, like youâre something precious instead of something stolen. "i promise," he says, and for a heartbeat, his voice is so soft it almost sounds like the boy you knew.
then his arms lock around you, lifting you against his chest like you weigh nothing. the sky splinters above youâcrimson and gold and burning, the last beautiful thing youâll ever see.
(and somewhere, in another life, your mark screams your name, raw and shattered, as the rubble of your city collapses around him. but youâre already gone, and the universe does not care.)
1.9k words full of my number one favourite invincible variant!! thank you so much to the anon who requested this one-shot heheheh <33
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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