#robthragg

“Not bad, kid,” you say when he looks at you expectantly once you’re both back down in Earth’s atmosphere. You do have a TTD (thought transmission device, to the uninitiated, not to be mixed up with sight transmission device) but you have a very good reason to avoid using that.

One which pipes up the second you finish speaking.

“Must you praise him?” Thragg says with utter disgust, and a heavy dose of resignation. “Your refusal to kill him is an inexcusable lapse in judgement, and will see our people brought to ruin. But to go so far as to-”

“You’re improving,” you add, and Mark does that thing where he tries not to grin too wide, scratches his cheek, and sort of kicks at the air. It’s very cute.

“I just, uh, did what you suggested. With the-” Mark throws a loose punch with a “ka-pow!”. He quickly winces, and drops his hand. “Anyway it was- it worked. Like you said.”

“If you continue to progress at this pace, you’ll succeed me soon,” you say purely for the surge of impotent rage. Has a metallic tang to it.

“This boy will never be worthy,” Thragg insists, which is a step above once again trying to convince you to murder Argall’s bloodline.

It was a real doozy when he found out thanks to being able to overhear a lot of your thoughts, though it was inevitable once you decided to dropkick that plotpoint into play to make use of it yourself. Dude can fucking rage.

He’s given you plenty of headaches since you transmigrated in, but you can’t really resent him for it. The whole bodysnatching is a fucked up situation no matter how much of an asshole the unwilling host is.

Mark grimaces. “‘Soon’ as in…Viltrumite years, right? ’Cause I’m really not in a rush. Seriously. And I’m definitely not ready - I’d have the job for like, a day, and I’d be calling you for help.”

Thragg huffs, giving you the impression of him crossing his arms. You mimic the position, since you’re not a total dick. You know it’s soothing for him when his intent matches reality.

“Awareness of his own lack of worth means little,” Thragg says, forever the critic. “Did I cower from the responsibility placed upon me? No. I saw what had to be done, and did not falter.”

And you took him not just over the finish line, but onto another racetrack entirely. One that doesn’t see its competitors shot in the head if they don’t win by a landslide.

“Your methods are crude and chaotic,” he says, but his voice - the mental standoff you’re both stuck in - loses its edge. “But I won't deny our people now…have a future I could not foresee.”

Yeah, you did throw a wildcard in there with an early Earth re-location (though not much earlier), allying with the GDA, and telling Mark Grayson his specific heritage. And what it could mean for the future of the Viltrum Empire, if he was willing to work with you.

It seemed a fun route to go, of the available options. You’re liking it so far. You get to pilot this OP maniac around and do whatever the fuck you want, within limits you set for yourself rather than have imposed on you. It’s a good time for all, and plenty distracting.

A sigh you feel against the backs of your molars. “Your motivations remain as juvenile as ever.”

“I don’t plan to hand over the reins any time soon,” you reassure them both before the pause can drag too long. One of the major challenges of a voice in you head, but so far, no one’s called you out.

Your LARP-ing skills are unbeatable.

Or you could say they’re-

“Do not.”

“Invincible,” you say, and Mark’s posture shifts to a more attentive one at the tone. “You will never be ‘ready’. No one can be when the future is never guaranteed, and our past offers little answer as to the direction we should take. We simply make do with that which survives, and learn from our mistakes. I survived. Viltrum survived. And now on Earth, we become more than our predecessors ever could have imagined for us.”

You glide closer, and grasp Mark’s shoulder. “You embody that change. But it remains my duty to ensure we don’t lose all we once were, and can still be.”

You smile, and feel it sit entirely differently on this face. If someone knew the you of before, and saw you now, would they feel even the slightest sting of recognition?

“An advantage of our kind is we don't need to be hasty. You’ll have your human life, as promised. All our people will.”

Robins are fully capable of attachment to other people and can somewhat stabilise through that, depending on circumstances, but she'll usually have at least some draw to Mark (just not necessarily romantic interest). Also, it's funny.

For that snippet AU, some shade of poly is also the funniest option, so you can guess where I'd likely veer xD Conquest over the course of one (1) chat going from ready to destroy Earth, to 'I believe I understand your affinity for these creatures' while heart eyes at Robin.

First time in his life that someone has expressed interest in him, combo'd with awe over his accomplishments but also- his thoughts and opinions? And then also keeps complimenting him? Appearance included?

"So uh, okay, maybe I lied about Invincible taking over Earth. But I did really want to chat with you. Would you...be open to sticking around on Earth?" oh shit there's no way he'll go for this. goodbye cruel world-

"I will consider it." Ten more minutes of conversation pass, and it's turned into Conquest therapy hour with Robin both fascinated and sympathetic, and it's decided, he's staying.

"You deserve to be loved and appreciated for who you are. Say it with me, dude."

"I...deserve to be loved and appreciated for who I am."

"Good boy."

????...❤️

I have no idea how RobMark would happen in this crazy timeline. Maybe he takes it on himself to keep a close watch on Conquest, which means Robin-exposure, and we know how that tends to go.

“You’re here willingly?” Mark still looks completely bewildered. Fair. He did sneak his way onto the warship of his greatest enemy with the idea that you’ve been kidnapped (from prison, but it applies) by someone with a justifiable grudge against you, just to stumble across- well.

C’mon. There’s a very dramatic throne; are you supposed to not fuck on it? Especially with how good the acoustics are in here.

You shift your weight, but that just makes Thragg’s arm tighten around your waist. Damn, dude, you’re not gonna run off just because an unlikely rescue has shown up. A…really unlikely one? Seriously. What the fuck are you doing, Mark?

“He is,” Thragg answers for you, the dick.

You roll your eyes and smack the back of your hand against his chest - right where the gnarly lightning scars you left on him are deepest, and most sensitive. Odd, since you’d think they’d be the opposite, but instead his breath catches and his fingers spasm on your side. Ha.

Must be a freaky side effect of your freaky side effects being involved; your own hands up past your elbows are marked by similar Lichtenberg figures, deep black with traces of the gold that characterises your electricity now.

“I did start out kidnapped,” you clarify, feeling bad for all the effort Mark went to just for this. And the risk he took…Christ, this was a terrible move on his part.

Yeah, you guys could probably be considered friends by the end of the war. Good ol’ forced proximity trope at play, and while he was badly injured by Conquest, it wasn’t a full coma the entire time - so after the initial ‘no hard feelings, I was having an ongoing mental breakdown and needed someone to blame’ talk on the ship, it was natural to warm up to each other while he recovered. Mark’s an easy guy to like, and you’re not the absolute worst even with your fucked up brain.

But damn, this is the wrong genre for ‘I’ll do anything for my friends!’ behaviour. Save that for the love interest, there’s more leeway there.

“Then I, uh…” How the fuck do you explain being charmed by Thragg’s utter lack of charm?

Dude’s a mess. It’s kinda hilarious, since you have all the context on how he’ll get worse, but also have to deal with what’s actually in front of you. Which is a guy so wrapped up in duty and failure that it stripped him of the ability to process a whole new kind of want, left him vulnerable once repression failed, and-

One thing led to another. And another. And another, Christ, you love Viltrumite stamina. Maybe left a few scorch marks on multiple rooms in the process, but it’s a sturdy ship.

You give up on explaining. Offer Mark a shrug and half-smile. “Like I told Cecil, consider it advanced diplomacy. Did he not tell you it was all good?”

You thought he was going to; sending a transmission over was your way of testing how honest Thragg was about your lack of restrictions. You’ve been considering an Earth visit next. There’s a lot of shit that’s due to go down soon, so hey, maybe you were hoping to nip a few issues in the bud now you’re somehow alive. Which remains, fucking wild.

“All good?” Mark repeats, incredulous. “Scott, you can’t seriously want to stay here!”

Yeah, you guess this is a pretty odd move for your (partially self-inflicted) tragic backstory and villain origin, huh.

“Why would he want to leave?” Thragg says with typical Viltrumite pride and entitlement that covers an entire ecosystem of insecurities and constant comparison. His brief glance at you really tells on him; a check that you aren’t going to contradict him. Cute. “I provide everything he needs, and freed him from unjust imprisonment on your planet. If this is how you treat your greatest warriors, how can you demand their loyalty?”

“It was temporary,” Mark says quickly, his scowl slipping when he looks back to you. “It was. I wouldn’t have left you in there.”

“Sure,” you say, because yeah, you know?

Obviously Cecil would’ve gotten you out when you’ve proven too useful. You figured this was a mix of the bureaucracy all must bow to in order to keep up the facade of civility, and a little reminder of your place despite the heights of the war. Few more weeks, and you would’ve been out.

Hell, the GDA might’ve just been sorting out some form of shock collar or counter-measure that would work on you, now you have a couple ways to get around simply being restrained. Mark helped you out with practising that, actually.